


The Best Revenge

by SailorChibi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baby Tony Stark, Carrying, Crying, Diapers, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Clint Barton Friendly, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Pacifiers, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Stephen Strange, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, alternate universe - littles are known, bottles, daddy Steve Rogers, daddy stephen strange, little Tony Stark, non sexual age play, non sexual infantilism, not team Cap friendly, not wanda maximoff friendly, now those steve issues and daddy issues are combined, steve has a hard time understanding that, steve rogers is a terrible daddy, team civil war iron man, the best revenge is living well, thumb sucking, tony stark has steve issues, tony stark is moving on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22946995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: Stephen Strange saves Tony from freezing to death in Siberia. That one action changes everything, much to the horror of one Steve Rogers.
Relationships: Tony Stark & Stephen Strange
Comments: 364
Kudos: 2742





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Salt? Check. Ironstrange? Check. Settle in, it's gonna be fun.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you.”

For several long moments after Steve – no, not Steve. Never Steve again. _Rogers_. For several long moments after Rogers and Barnes shuffled out of sight, Tony’s words seemed to echo through the room. Tony kept his eyes on the shield, which lay on the frozen ground about fifteen feet away from him. Just one more thing that had been cast aside like it meant nothing.

The pain in his chest was more than just physical; within maybe ten minutes, Tony heard a jet lifting off. His breathing quickened as he realized that they had left him behind. His eyes swept across the room, searching for any other signs of life… but there was nothing. Just Tony, the broken armor, the shield, and the sound of the cruel wind as it whistled across the Siberian tundra.

So, this was it. This was how Tony Stark died. The realization settled heavily onto Tony’s shoulders, weighing him down further. Rogers had broken the arc reactor powering the armor, and the back-up power supplies had been damaged in the fight. His only hope was that FRIDAY would realize what had happened and contact someone to help, but Tony didn’t know if she was advanced enough to make those calls on her own. JARVIS? No question. But FRIDAY was still so young.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Tears burned hot at his eyes, even though he tried to blink them back. Tony had been a fool. There was no other word to describe it. He wondered now if Rogers had ever cared about him, or if he’d just seen Tony as a means to an end. All those nights when Rogers had held him and rocked him to sleep, had they ever meant something or were they all a lie?

“A lie,” Tony breathed, knowing the truth in his heart. If Rogers had felt anything towards Tony, it was a pale mimicry of what Rogers felt towards Barnes. At best, Tony was a substitute. At worst, Rogers was only pretending to get better access to Tony’s resources: money, connections, jets. Tony honestly doesn’t know which is worse.

At any rate, now that Rogers has what he really wants, Tony has ceased to matter. The realization cuts deep, deeper than it should considering how he can now look back with open eyes and see how things really were. He’d always thought that Ultron was the mistake, the force that drove the Avengers apart, but that was wrong, wasn’t it? There were cracks in the team long before Ultron. That was just the first time that Tony had consciously noticed them and couldn’t ignore them any longer.

He had spent so long fighting for Rogers’s attention. Trying to be whatever Rogers wanted. Looking the other way when Rogers did things like bring Maximoff onto the team, even though she had gone into Tony’s head and forced him to see terrible things. Ignoring Pepper and Rhodey when they tried to point out that Tony was being stupid. Tony had sacrificed _so much_ for Rogers because he’d convinced himself that Captain America cared about him, and that if only Tony could be a little _better_ then Captain America would _want_ him.

And this was how he was being re-paid.

He gulped in a breath and coughed. Bright agony seared across his chest and Tony choked, freezing in place. Waves of pain radiated up into his head, making his eyes water anew. He couldn’t be sure what was wrong, but something definitely was. A supersoldier couldn’t just ram a vibranium shield into gold titanium alloy without doing some serious damage to the fleshy human underneath. It was probably a toss-up as to whether he was going to freeze to death or die from inner bleeding.

If he got out of here, Tony thought, things would be different. He would never again allow himself to be taken advantage of. He would work to surround himself with people who _actually_ cared, even if that was limited to just Pepper, Rhodey and Happy. He would figure out some way to shield himself against magic. He would never again let himself give literally everything for the proverbial carrot.

But that was a big if, and Tony could feel himself beginning to slow down. His hands and feet were entirely numb now, no longer prickling painfully. Each breath he drew was shallow, and the tightness in his chest suggested that he couldn’t have taken a deep breath even if he’d wanted to. He belatedly wondered if he had collapsed a lung, or maybe there was a build-up of fluid in his chest.

At least he hadn’t slipped into his headspace. If he had, he would’ve been a panicking, squalling mess on the floor. Though maybe if he had, the end would’ve come sooner. Tony blinked slowly at the ceiling, pondering that. If he couldn’t breathe, he would pass out. If he passed out, he wouldn’t have to sit here and think about how damn stupid he’d been.

Captain America as Tony Stark’s daddy. Ha. What a joke. 

At some point his eyes drifted shut, which Tony wasn’t fully aware of until the shifting of displaced air registered. He opened his eyes and blinked, realizing that someone had literally appeared in the room with him. Tall and imposing, the figure was cast in shadows. Only the bright red cloak that hung from their shoulders was really visible. Then they took a step forward, bringing their face into light.

Tony knew him, or at least knew _of_ him. He sluggishly searched his memory, attempting to put a name to the face. It was someone he hadn’t heard of for quite a while… someone he had never known well, but who had run in similar circles to him… someone who had been in an accident. Someone with an odd last name… No. A _strange_ last name. Strange. Dr. Stephen Strange. That was it.

“Hello Stark,” Strange said, looking down his nose at Tony’s body. 

A croak escaped Tony’s throat, but he realized he wasn’t capable of much more than that. Strange’s carefully crafted mask cracked and true concern flitted across the doctor’s face. He knelt smoothly, practiced gaze running across the armor. But of course, unless Strange had x-ray vision, he couldn’t see through to the damage underneath. But his eyes did linger on the chestpiece of the armor, specifically on the curved gash that was cleaved deeply into the alloy, and Tony suspected Strange could see far more than Tony wanted him to.

“I would say you’ve done a number on yourself, but something tells me that someone else had a hand in this,” Strange muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. “You’re meant for better things than dying out here. Come along.”

He stood and, miraculously, the armor rose with him. Strange’s eyebrows drew together with focus; Tony realized that there were orange sparks flying out from around the armor, and that there was a portal forming in the air behind Strange. A thin shudder ran through him. After all these years, he still had a dislike of portals – but through this one, he could see what looked like a hospital.

When Strange took a step towards the portal, Tony summoned all of his strength to speak. “Shield…”

Strange stopped immediately. “What?”

“Shield…” Tony whispered again, feeling incredibly fatigued just with that. He glanced in the direction of the shield and Strange followed his gaze.

A range of emotion flashed across Strange’s face when he saw the discarded shield. Chief amongst them was anger, followed by what might have been scorn or derision. For a split second Tony thought that Strange might leave the shield behind, but he didn’t. He walked over to it and bent, picking it up off the floor. He held it away from himself, like it was something distasteful.

“That good men should be broken, unmade, just to accept what fate needs them to do,” he muttered, and sighed. Silently, he returned to Tony and walked into the portal. The armor, with Tony inside, was pulled along without so much as Strange glancing over his shoulder.

Tony suddenly found himself inside of said hospital, surrounded by heat and light and people. Before he even knew what was going on, there were hands peeling him out of the armor. Then he was being lifted onto what was unmistakably a gurney, and there was a doctor standing over him shining a penlight into his eyes. Tony reared back as far as he could, which wasn’t very far at all, and opened his mouth.

“Tony!”

He froze, because that definitely wasn’t his voice but it sure sounded familiar. The next thing he knew, the doctor was being nudged aside and Pepper’s tear-streaked face was hovering over him. Tony stared up at her and had the sense to quickly cataloging her expression. She didn’t look afraid, and she didn’t look threatened, which meant that they had to be somewhere safe. 

“You’re in the hospital,” she told him, naming one that he recognized. “These doctors are going to help you, okay?”

“Ma’am, we really need to get him moving,” someone said.

“Give me a second. Nothing will be helped by him having a panic attack,” Pepper snapped back before looking down at Tony again. “They’re going to take you for some tests, honey,” she said, trying to smile. “I’ll be right here the whole time. I promise I won’t leave.”

He sorely wanted to stay with her: Pepper wasn’t his caregiver, but she had never been opposed to a good cuddle. And just then, Tony could think of nothing that he wanted more. But a sharp prickle in his upper arm took the decision out of his hands. All too quickly, the encroaching darkness swam up to pull him under completely. The last thing he saw was Pepper’s tearful smile.

Tony knew very little else beyond that until the next time he opened his eyes. The white ceiling above him told him that he was still in the hospital. He slowly and painfully turned his head to see that Happy was sitting in the chair beside him, head tilted back at an angle that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. There was a whole range of machines surrounding the bed. When Tony tipped his head down, he saw the visible parts of his body were covered by bandages or casts.

He must have made some sound, because Happy suddenly snapped awake with a grunt. “Boss? Boss! You’re awake!”

“Yeah,” was what Tony wanted to say, but what came out was a raspy croak. Happy immediately leaned forward and picked up a little plastic cup of water with a straw. He put the straw to Tony’s lips. Tony sucked and tasted tepid water. It was one of the best things he’d ever tasted, right up there with the cheeseburger after Afghanistan.

“Better?” Happy asked, watching Tony’s face closely.

“Cheeseburger?” Tony rasped.

Happy laughed shakily, setting the cup down. “Sorry, no can do. Doctor’s orders. I could probably get you a bottle if you wanted one, but that’s about it.”

Tony managed to shake his head. Food was honestly the last thing he wanted. A cheeseburger sounded amazing, but the thought of actually eating one turned his stomach to the point where he gagged a little. Happy instantly had the cup of water back in front of him. To make him feel better, Tony obligingly took another sip and was surprised to find that it helped.

“They said you’d probably be thirsty,” Happy said. “How are you feeling?”

“Floaty,” Tony said, realizing that he must’ve been on the really good stuff. 

“Good. That’s good. I’m gonna let them know you’re awake. Pepper is just outside.” Happy started to stand.

“Happy,” Tony whispered.

“What?” Happy said, immediately freezing.

“Rhodey?”

Happy relaxed and even smiled. “He’s doing okay, Boss. He’s gonna need a lot of physical therapy, but they think he should be able to walk again.”

The news sent a wave of relief through Tony, and he nodded. Happy nodded back and then went to the door. Within about thirty seconds, Pepper rushed into the room. She burst into tears when she saw that Tony was awake and bent over him, giving him a very careful hug. Tony hugged her back as tightly as he could, hiding his own tears in her shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

After Pepper and Happy, there was a parade of doctors in and out of Tony’s room. Happy, recognizing that there was a distinct lack of space in an already small room with so many people, left for coffee, but Pepper remained. Tony lost track of who was who until a very familiar face walked in. Helen Cho took one look at the group in Tony’s room and scowled, her hands moving to her hips.

“Alright, that’s it, anyone in a white coat, get out. I need to have a private word with my patient,” she announced.

Some of the doctors clearly weren’t thrilled. A couple even looked like they might argue. But then, much to Tony’s relief, an alarm began to blare somewhere in the hospital. He didn’t know what the alarm stood for, but every single doctor and nurse all but ran for the door. Cho shook her head as she shut the door behind them.

“Honestly, do they really think that swarming someone who has just woken up from a traumatizing situation is a good idea?” she muttered. “Good morning, Mr. Stark. How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Tony admitted. There was no point in lying about it. He was one solid ache from head to toe. The pain medication must have been wearing off, he realized.

“That’s to be expected, considering what you went through. You’re very lucky Dr. Strange found you when he did. You were as close to death as any patient I’ve ever worked for.” Cho’s expression was serious. “You were in surgery for over twenty-four hours, and your heart gave out three separate times.”

Tony grimaced. “At least that explains why I feel like I’ve been kicked in the chest,” he tried to joke. The two women exchanged glances.

“Actually, that would be the work of Captain America,” Pepper said. Anyone else might have thought she seemed calm, even pleasant, about that fact. Tony knew differently. Pepper’s rage could be a subtle thing, often to the point where people didn’t even realize she was angry until she was ripping a strip off them. He would not have wanted to be in Rogers’s shoes right now. Pepper could be downright vindictive.

“Right,” Tony said, remembering the fight. A shudder went through him at the memory of Rogers pinning him down, shield held over the armor. That wasn’t something Tony was going to be able to forget anytime soon.

“Yes, well, it turns out that the average human is very susceptible to damage done by a supersoldier. Rogers pretty much destroyed your sternum and several ribs,” Cho told him. “Not to mention the damage done to your internal organs. Luckily for you, we’ve made some significant improvements on the cradle. After your surgery, that’s where you were for another forty-eight hours –”

“Wait, how long have I been asleep?” Tony exclaimed.

“You’ve been out for eight days,” Pepper said gently, taking Tony’s hand in hers. “The doctors didn’t feel like it was safe for you to wake up until now. You were on a ventilator until last night.”

Eight days. Tony’s head swam at that bit of information. He’d thought a day, maybe two – not _eight_. No wonder Happy had been able to say that Rhodey was doing better with such confidence.

“We’ve managed to repair a lot of the damage, but not all of it. You have some recuperation to do,” Cho said. She glanced at Pepper again. This time, Tony wasn’t sure what the look they shared meant, but he knew that there was something they weren’t telling him.

“What?” he asked. “Pep, what is it?”

“They had to inject you with Extremis again, Tony,” Pepper told him. “It was the only way to keep your heart going. What you had in you wasn’t enough.”

Tony sucked in a sharp breath at that. Extremis. He had played around a lot with it in the days following Killian’s demise. It had taken a lot of work, and a lot of consultation with various doctors including Cho, but he had finally managed to stabilize the Extremis inside Pepper. She no longer had the awesome powers, but she also wasn’t going to blow up. The most she was capable of was an accelerated healing rate. 

He had played around with the idea of injecting Extremis into himself following the surgery to remove the arc reactor and shrapnel, and had finally done so. But what he’d given himself was an _incredibly_ small dose, just enough to speed up healing and help regenerate some bone. He had always meant to go back and look at Extremis again, but then everything had spiralled out of control with the Avengers and there had never been enough time.

“So what, am I gonna go boom now?” he asked, attempting to smile. To his knowledge, no one had ever been injected with Extremis twice. That Pepper and Cho had felt they had to spoke volumes about just what kind of shape that Tony had been in.

“No,” Pepper said instantly, as though she could stop such a thing from happening just by sheer will power. Cho also shook her head.

“I don’t believe so. We’ve been monitoring you very carefully,” she said. “Honestly, Mr. Stark, it was a last resort. The cradle itself wasn’t enough. You would have died otherwise. Ms. Potts is your medical proxy, and she felt that it was worth the risk.”

“I get it. It’s fine,” Tony said, because he would’ve done the same thing had he been in Pepper’s shoes and Pepper were the one dying. “I just – it’s hard to believe it was really that bad.” His voice came out smaller and shakier than he wanted it to, and he flushed. Cho’s face softened and she approached the bed.

“I know that’s scary,” she said, very gently. “It would be for anyone. But you’re past the point of uncertainty; you’re going to make a full recovery. Actually, with Extremis, you may be in a better place than before. We’ll have to continue to monitor you to make sure that nothing happens, but if you were going to see any side effects we would have by now.”

Tony inclined his head, because that was true. “Okay. So what else did I miss while I was out?” He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He needed to be alone to think about what it meant that he had now been injected twice over, because he didn’t want to do that with an audience when it may involve far more tears than he was comfortable with either Pepper or Cho seeing. Maybe, if Rogers hadn’t been such a total asshole and were still his daddy –

“Unfortunately, the media knows you’re here,” Pepper said, thankfully turning Tony’s thoughts away from that minefield. “I tried to keep it locked down, but…”

“When you’re in a hospital, it’s pretty hard to keep everyone locked down,” Cho said.

Pepper sighed. “Exactly. Still not sure who leaked the news, but we’re working on finding out.”

“Right,” Tony said, very quietly. In the long run, it didn’t matter who had leaked the news that he was here. They could sue the person who had blabbed, but that wouldn’t change the fact that the information was still out there. At least it explained why the curtains were heavily drawn over the window. Paparazzi thought nothing of scaling a building, or of flying a helicopter by.

“But the good news is, you might be able to go home soon,” Cho said with an encouraging smile. “Everything that I’m seeing from your results looks pretty good. I’d have to stay with you for a few days to keep monitoring you, and you’d have to have twice daily visits from –”

“Sure, yes, anything,” Tony said quickly. He had a deep loathing for hospitals. The world had found out about his classification following Afghanistan – years of hiding, gone in an instant once he was admitted to the hospital and some young upstart went running to the media – but Tony had worked hard to move forward in spite of that. The thought that someone could leak more details was enough to make him cringe. He didn’t need headlines about Tony Stark and diapers running anytime soon.

But almost worse than that possibility was how _vulnerable_ he felt inside of a hospital. There was no FRIDAY to keep an eye on everything. No armor in the event that someone attacked. No security measures. No way to lock anything down or control who came in and out of the building. Just Tony, ready for whatever super villain decided to walk in and do some damage.

“I thought you might feel that way. We’re working on it,” Pepper told him. She reached up and gently ran her free hand through Tony’s hair. “It might still be a couple of days. You did just wake up. They want to make sure that you’re still healing okay.”

“Right,” Tony mumbled, shifting slightly and grimacing. Cho picked up a button on his bedside table and touched it a couple of times. Almost immediately, the pain began to lessen. 

“Do you need anything?” Cho asked, setting the device back down.

It was on the tip of Tony’s tongue to make a smart remark, but he stopped himself. Normally Cho didn’t mind when he snarked at her, because she could and did give as good as she got. But now probably wasn’t the time. Both Cho and Pepper looked tired in spite of their cheerful attitudes, and he knew that both of them had spent the past week on very little sleep. 

“I’d like some water. Cold water, if you could get it,” Tony said.

“Are you hungry?” Pepper asked.

“Not really.” His stomach didn’t hurt, but he was slightly nauseous. Cho nodded.

“That’s to be expected. The painkillers they have you on can be hard on your stomach. Still, you should try to eat something within the next couple of hours. Even if it’s just a few mouthfuls of soup.”

“I’ll bring you some.” Pepper squeezed Tony’s hand one last time before she stood. “There’s someone else here who’d like to see you, if it’s alright.”

“Sure?” Tony said, confused. It was only as Pepper and Cho were leaving that it occurred to him that Pepper didn’t know the full story of what had happened in Siberia. His heart thudded against his ribs as he wondered if Captain America was going to stroll into the room – it wouldn’t be the first time Rogers had managed to skate around the law. What would he do? Screaming panic wasn’t appropriate, but –

“Hello again, Stark.” Strange walked into the room, and Tony was relaxing almost before he’d consciously realized who it was. 

“Hello,” Tony said, watching as Strange picked up his medical chart and flipped through it. Part of him wondered if he should protest that, considering how much private medical information a chart had, but decided not to bother. Bruce had been like that too. It had to be a doctor thing, to gravitate naturally towards medical charts, and it was likely that Strange already knew most of it.

“You were lucky,” Strange said at last, glancing up at Tony.

“That seems to be the common consensus,” Tony replied. “Thank you. For saving me, I mean.” The words felt odd to say. When was the last time Tony had thanked someone for that? He honestly couldn’t remember. It might have been Bruce, back when the Hulk had caught the armor as it fell from the sky during the Battle of New York, and Bruce had uncomfortably brushed off Tony’s gratitude.

“You’re welcome, but my motives weren’t purely altruistic,” Strange said.

Tony braced himself. Here it came. “What do you want in return?”

“Personally? Nothing,” Strange said, closing the chart.

“I find that hard to believe. No one does anything without wanting something,” Tony said.

Something flickered in Strange’s eyes, there-and-gone before Tony could identify it, but all Strange said was, “I have looked at the future, Stark. I have looked at many, _many_ futures. The only futures where the world survives are the futures where you exist too. So if you want to thank me, you can do so by _staying alive_. The world needs you.”


	3. Chapter 3

The words shook Tony to his core and made his breath catch. Strange just stood there, looking at him patiently, awaiting a response. And what came automatically to Tony’s lips wasn’t an acknowledgement of what Strange had said, but rather a denial. For as long as he had lived, Tony’s presence had only ever made situations worse. The thought of Tony being a key factor in the world’s survival was laughable. So he did, forcing out a weak chuckle even though it made his chest throb.

“I suppose that means you’ve been looking at the wrong futures, Strange,” he said roughly. “But the last time I tried to save the world, I created a murderous robot that tried to kill all of humanity. There’s an awful lot of people out there who would set you straight about how much of a help I am.”

That made Strange frown. “From what I gather, Ultron wasn’t entirely your doing,” he said. “When you’re feeling better, I’d like the full story of how that happened if you’d be inclined to share.”

“Sure, why not? Might as well disavow you of any notion that I’m a savior now,” Tony said, a heavy and unexpected weariness settling over him. He might have thought that Strange was using magic on him, except he’d experienced this before. Fatigue was a common, if frustrating, visitor following surgery, and his conversation with Pepper and Cho had been an emotional one.

“I doubt there’s anything you could tell me that would change my mind about that,” Strange said. That curious look was back in his eyes, but Tony was no closer to being able to figure out what it meant now than he had been before. 

“You’d be surprised,” Tony replied, aiming for the words to come out light and but knowing that he was falling short. He wondered who Strange had been talking to. Pepper? Rhodey? Maybe Vision, though that seemed unlikely. Bruce had left after Maximoff joined the team. Tony had tried to find him before eventually giving up, and if Tony couldn’t find him then there was no way that Strange could.

Strange merely shook his head. “The world needs you,” he repeated.

“No one wants me,” Tony mumbled, and that wasn’t quite right. He frowned at himself and corrected that to: “No one needs me.”

“Stark…” Strange may have said more, but the world was twisting and fading. Though what he was saying was no doubt important, Strange’s voice sounded as though it was coming through a tunnel and quickly grew indistinguishable from the beeping around them as Tony’s eyelids grew impossibly heavy. He let them slip shut and knew nothing more.

\--

Stephen Strange stared down at the man laying in the bed before him and fought the urge to scream in frustration. This was not what he had been expecting, and not what he wanted to deal with. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood there for a moment, just staring at Stark, as though staring alone would be enough to awaken Stark and magically transform him into the cocky, arrogant asshole the media had always played him off as. Alas, as in so many magical things, will alone did not work.

“Damn it,” he muttered at last, tapping his foot on the floor. He hadn’t anticipated this, though it surprised him less than he wanted to admit. His conversations with Stark’s friends, particularly Vision, had been illuminating. Rhodes and Potts hadn’t been overly forthcoming, but sometimes what they _didn’t_ say told Stephen more than anything they could’ve said.

He took a step closer to the bed now that Stark was asleep, running a critical eye over the man. Stark was heavily bandaged from head to toe, but now that he had woken up many of those bandages would be coming off. Some of them were a precautionary measure. But others would have to stay, as even the use of Extremis and the cradle hadn’t healed Stark completely. For the first few weeks after Stark went home, he’d need help.

But then, Stephen supposed that was something that Stark would be used to, being that Stark was a Little. Or perhaps it was better to say that was something Stark _should_ have been used to. Stephen hadn’t exactly made it a practice to follow Tony Stark in the newspapers over the years, but he had rolled his eyes at enough stories to know that Stark had never had an official caregiver. Every so often, speculation would run rampant about what kind of person Stark would choose if he did.

And then came the day when rumors started flying around that Captain America was acting in the capacity of Iron Man’s caregiver. Stark had come under heavy criticism for those rumors, even though, so far as Stephen knew, nothing concrete had ever arisen from that. Based on what he’d seen in Siberia, Stephen found himself _praying_ that those rumors were unsubstantiated. He couldn’t fathom how traumatizing it would be for a Little to undergo that treatment at the hands of their caregiver.

The world needed Stark. Stephen hadn’t been lying about that. But he wasn’t sure Stark was in the right frame of mind to handle that yet. He pondered the circumstances they had found themselves in as he quietly walked to the door and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. It would be a cruel twist of irony indeed if people had driven their savior past the point of no return…

“Doctor Strange?”

Stephen glanced up. “Ah, Ms. Potts. Is that for Stark? He just fell asleep.”

“That’s okay. It’s hot anyway. I’ll let him sleep for a bit and the soup can cool.” Potts set the container down and wrapped her arms around herself. “How was he?”

“I’m not sure I know him well enough to say,” Stephen said carefully, a little surprised that she was asking him.

“But you’re both superheroes,” she said. “You can understand a side of him that I can’t.”

 _“No one needs me. No one wants me.”_

Stark’s slurred words flashed through Stephen’s mind again and he had to control an instinctive flinch. Those words had been entirely honest and _raw_ in a way that Stephen hadn’t been expecting. He didn’t know Potts well, of course, but he had the feeling that there was more than one side of Stark that Stephen could understand and which she couldn’t.

Still, he wasn’t about to say as much. He merely shook his head. “I didn’t get the chance to say much to him. He was very groggy. I told him that he was lucky, and he asked me what I wanted for having saved him.”

Potts chuckled bitterly. “Yes, that sounds like Tony,” she said softly. “And what did you say, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The same thing I told you,” Stephen replied. He’d already had this discussion with Potts. She had offered him money, which Stephen had turned down. It was true that he could have used the money, as being the Sorcerer Supreme did not pay well, but he knew better than to accept a reward. He may not have understood why, but there was a niggling sense that it was imperative he stay close to Stark right now. Taking a reward would’ve meant he was considered finished business in Potts’ eyes, if not Stark’s as well.

“Of course you did.” Potts sighed and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Will you be leaving, then?” She looked at him expectantly.

“I’d rather stick around, if that’s alright,” Stephen said cautiously, half-expecting her to say that he had overstayed his welcome. Gratitude for saving a friend’s life could only stretch so far.

But Potts shook her head and smiled, and said, “Of course. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like. It’s nice to have someone else here to talk to.”

“Thank you,” Stephen said, somewhat awkwardly. 

“I’m just going to take this into Tony so that he’ll have it when he’s awake,” she said, picking up the soup. “Excuse me.” She nodded at him and stepped past, entering Tony’s room. She closed the door behind her, leaving Stephen alone in the hall. He sighed to himself.

This was certainly a complicated web he was weaving, and he wasn’t even sure why he was doing it. Nothing in that future indicated that Stephen and Stark needed to know each other in order for it to come to pass. And yet… with every moment he spent away from Stark, it felt wrong. He couldn’t have even explained _how_ it was wrong, except that it was a bit like an itch under his skin he couldn’t scratch. It was surely magic’s way of trying to give him a clue, but in the short term it was just really annoying.

Deciding that he needed a distraction, Stephen left the corridor and went in search of his old co-worker. Dr. Christine Palmer was right in the middle of a double shift according to what one of the nurses said, but when Stephen spotted her you wouldn’t have known it. Christine was as beautiful as always, with her blonde hair tied up in a crisp chignon. Even the pink scrubs she was wearing didn’t deflect from her charm.

She smiled when she saw him, breaking away from her conversation to meet him midway. “Ah, don’t tell me that you need more emergency surgery,” she said teasingly. “That seems to be the only reason I see you now.”

“I promise as I’m as healthy as ever,” Stephen said, amused in spite of himself. He might have come by for her help a handful of times after battles. For the most part he could take care of small wounds or injuries, but some things were just easier with a second set of competent hands.

“Well, that’s good to hear I guess. But this can’t just be a social call,” she mused, tapping her chin. “You hate hanging around the hospital.”

Even now, she knew him too well. She wasn’t wrong. Immediately following the car accident, Stephen had hated the hospital. It was a reminder of everything he had lost, and he’d struggled with jealousy towards his old coworkers. Finding magic and becoming Sorcerer Supreme and finding a new place in the world had helped with that, but he still didn’t like being reminded of what he’d once been.

“I’m here with Tony Stark,” Stephen said, very quietly, and Christine’s eyes widened.

“Ooh,” she breathed. “I guess I should’ve expected that. How is he doing? I didn’t participate in the surgery, but I consulted on the case. It was a hell of a mess.”

“As well as can be considered,” Stephen said. “I saved his life. I’m the one who brought him here.”

“Really? Well, good for you, Stephen. The world needs more men like Iron Man,” she said. “But you don’t look happy about it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“That’s not your ‘nothing’ face,” she pointed out. He couldn’t decide if it was annoying or nice that she knew him so well.

“I feel the need to stay near him,” he said reluctantly.

“ _Really_ ,” she said for the second time, a hint of a smirk teasing the corners of her lips.

“It’s not what you’re thinking!” Stephen said hastily, immediately regretting having said anything at all. Christine didn’t know magic. She wouldn’t understand what it was like to have magic telling you something. That was one of many reasons for why they had broken up only a few months after they’d gotten together.

“Sure it’s not,” Christine said, her eyes twinkling.

“Stark is a Little,” Stephen said with a huff.

“And you’re a Caregiver,” she countered, which gave him pause. Not many people knew that. His bedside manner was so atrocious that people just assumed he was a baseline.

“It’s still not like that,” Stephen said stubbornly. “It’s magical in nature.”

Christine smirked outright. “Right. It’s magic. It couldn’t at all be the fact that Stark is a Little, and that seeing him in such terrible shape threw all your Caregiver instincts into a long overdue frenzy.” She patted his arm. “I totally believe you.”

“I’m forgetting why I wanted to come talk to you.”

She snickered. “Come on, magic man. Buy me a cup of coffee and I’ll listen to all your magical ills.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was three days before the doctors decided that Tony had progressed well enough to be able to return to the tower. On the second day, he had to get out of the hospital bed. Just the acting of sitting up was enough to bring tears of pain to Tony’s eyes, but he persevered out of sheer hatred for the hospital. It took Happy’s support, but he finally managed to get to his feet and stand for a whole minute before his knees gave out. 

The morning that he was released, Happy brought in a wheelchair and parked it beside the bed. Then he very carefully helped Tony to stand up, pivot, and sit down in the wheelchair. Tony breathed in deeply once he was seated again, wincing at the flare of pain from his ribs. The only saving grace about what had happened was his legs were largely undamaged, and so was his right arm. His left arm was currently in a sling, and Cho had mentioned something about pre-existing nerve damage that Tony had pretended not to hear.

“You ready to go, Boss?” Happy asked gently, moving behind the wheelchair. Because of course, with one of Tony’s arms out of commission, he couldn’t exactly push himself around. As soon as he got back to the tower, he was locking himself in the workshop. Stark Industries was about to come out with an electric wheelchair that would blow everything else off the market.

“Yeah, I think so,” Tony said, glancing around to make sure that nothing was left behind. Not that he’d had much. There was his phone, but that was safely in his pocket. He had no interest in getting his clothing back; according to Cho, the tattered remains had been cut off him in the operating room and there hadn’t been much left. Happy and Pepper had already collected the remains of the armor and taken it back to the tower.

“Okay. Let’s go, then. Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle,” Happy said, carefully turning the wheelchair towards the door. “You still wanna make your stop on the way out?”

“Hell yeah,” Tony whispered, sitting upright. He smiled and waved goodbye to the nurses that they passed. Some of them had gotten a little closer and more personal than he was comfortable with, but at the end of the day he had to believe they were professionals.

Happy pushed the wheelchair down to the elevator, but rather than pushing the button to go down to the parking lot, they went up to the ICU. Apparently, Tony and Rhodey had been mere rooms apart during the time following Tony’s surgery. Then, thanks to the use of Extremis and the cradle, Tony had been moved down to the lower floors shortly before he was woken up. So far, Rhodey hadn’t been as lucky.

The room was dark and quiet when they first went in, but Rhodey’s eyes opened immediately. He silently tracked their process across the room. Happy pushed the wheelchair right up beside the bed, as close as Tony could get without discomfort, and then set the brake. He patted Tony’s shoulder, smiled at Rhodey, and backed out of the room. Per ICU protocol, he couldn’t shut the door – but just being alone with Rhodey was good enough.

“Hey,” Rhodey whispered, breaking the silence, and Tony’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “Oh, Tones, no. Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re okay. Here.” Rhodey slid his hand out from under the covers and extended it until Tony could grab it and hold on.

“S-sorry,” Tony said, sniffing.

“Don’t apologize,” Rhodey said, gently but firmly. “I take back what I said. You can cry if you want to. Anyone would after being dicked around by that assholes Rogers.” The utter contempt in Rhodey’s voice was almost enough to make Tony smile. Almost.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking Rhodey over. Both of Rhodey’s legs were still encased in casts.

Rhodey sighed. “Honestly, I’ve been better. The doctors are looking cautiously optimistic that I might walk again, but they’re making no promises.”

Tony bit his lip, a surge of guilt rising up through him. “Rhodey, I –”

“I just said not to apologize,” Rhodey interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. In fact, without your armor, I would be dead right now. If anything, I should be thanking you for putting as much work into the War Machine armor as you did.” He squeezed Tony’s hand. “It saved my life. _You_ saved my life.”

The tears welled up and spilled over. Tony would have liked to have bent over and put his face to Rhodey’s hand, but there was no way his midsection was going to allow that to happen. He settled for bowing his head and holding Rhodey’s hand as tightly as he dared, struggling to get himself under control. This wasn’t the place for a full-scale breakdown no matter how perilously close to the edge he was.

“I’m – I’m going to make the next version of the armor so good, your old one will look like garbage,” Tony choked out finally.

Rhodey chuckled and rubbed his thumb over the back of Tony’s hand. “I totally believe that,” he said. “Just… don’t kill yourself trying to make that happen, okay? You’re recovering from major surgery too. You almost died.” The humor in his expression drained away, leaving behind a sad, tired man who hadn’t been able to be at his best friend’s side when he desperately wanted to.

“I’m okay now,” Tony said. “Or at least, I will be. Between Extremis and the cradle, I might just be better than ever.” He tried to smile. “Maybe the same thing would work on you.”

“Maybe. I’m not too keen on the idea of Extremis, but I’d think about it if I had no other choice.” Rhodey sighed. “The doctors want to give it another couple of weeks and see how far my body heals on its own before we resort to alternate methods. In your case, they didn’t have that choice.”

“Yeah,” Tony muttered, swallowing. He had come close to dying before, but never like that. Never at the hands of someone who was supposed to be his teammate. His friend. His caregiver. Just thinking the word made Tony flinch, his hand squeezing Rhodey’s.

“Tones,” Rhodey said, very quietly. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Tony said, unable to look Rhodey in the eye. “I should’ve seen this coming, really. I was an idiot to think that Rogers ever cared about me in the first place.”

“No, you weren’t. It’s not stupid to think that people could care about you,” Rhodey said firmly. “Rogers is a whole bunch of words that I won’t say right now for the sake of Little ears.”

Tony glared at him. “I’ve told you before I don’t care if you swear.”

“I know you have, and I’ll continue to ignore it. Tony, listen to me. What Rogers did was an asshole move in anyone’s book. Regardless of whether he ever actually cared for you, that doesn’t excuse what _he_ did. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t drive him to do this. This was a choice that Rogers made all on his own. He’s the one who prioritized Barnes over everything else. He’s the one who refused to even hear about the Accords. He’s the one who broke the law. He’s the one who beat you nearly to death.” Rhodey’s voice was low and dark with anger.

“I just… I thought he lo – cared about me,” Tony whispered, hating how pathetic it made him feel to say those words out loud. Yet Rhodey was the only person he could say that to. He could never admit it out loud to Pepper or Happy.

“We all did,” Rhodey said, his voice gentling. “You weren’t a fool to believe someone when they said they cared. I’m so sorry for what Rogers did to you. I’d give anything to change it. Actually, I’d give anything to be able to get out of his hospital bed and kick his ass.”

“Rhodey,” Tony said, lifting his head to give his friend a look. There was no doubt in his mind that Rhodey would do it too, which was why Tony was suddenly grateful that Rhodey couldn’t even walk right now. If Rogers unleashed on Rhodey the way he had on Tony, Rhodey would never survive it. The thought was sobering and terrifying. 

He was going to have to make the Iron Man armor stronger. Ditto the War Machine armor. It was true that Tony had been at a severe disadvantage because he’d been facing _two_ supersoldiers, but that could happen again in the future. And if it did, then Tony wasn’t going to hold back this time. He couldn’t. Rogers had proven that he didn’t care about anyone or anything except for Bucky Barnes, and people who were obsessed to the point of no exceptions were dangerous.

“I’m just saying. Next time I see Rogers, I’m going to punch him in his stupid face,” Rhodey said. He smiled a little. “That is, if Strange doesn’t get him to first. He was pretty upset after finding you in Siberia, and I wouldn’t mind finding out what sorts of magical things he could do to a supersoldier.”

Tony blinked, caught off guard by what seemed like a sudden change of subject, and said, “Strange doesn’t even know Rogers. Or at least, not that I know of. Why would he and Rogers even meet?”

“Did you miss the part where I said Strange was upset after what happened?” Rhodey said dryly. 

“No, I got that, but that doesn’t mean he’d go after Rogers. He was upset because I’m important,” Tony said.

“Important to Strange,” Rhodey said, a teasing twinkle in his eyes, and Tony found himself inexplicably flushing – and then promptly got mad at himself for blushing, unsure of why he was feeling flustered by what Rhodey was saying. He and Strange barely knew each other, and Strange had already made it very clear that he had saved Tony for the sake of the world.

Of course, that didn’t explain why Strange had continued to stick around…

“ _No_ , important to the future of the world,” he said, voice sounding weak to his own ears. “He said he looked into the future –”

“Yeah, I got the whole magical spiel already,” Rhodey said, and Tony looked at him in surprise.

“You’ve been talking to Strange?”

“Of course. I know the guy saved your life, but so did Rogers, and look how that turned out. Pepper and I both talked to him to find out what his intentions were,” Rhodey said.

“Seriously? The poor guy.” Tony sighed and would’ve covered his face with his hands if he could have. He was definitely going to have to apologize to Strange at this rate, because he could only imagine how a ‘talk’ would have gone. Both Rhodey and Pepper were reasonable people – most of the time. But when it came to Tony, their common sense frequently took a jump out the window.

“He was fine with it. And frankly, maybe if Pepper and I had had a chat with Rogers, none of this would’ve happened,” said Rhodey. 

Tony sobered at that, his smile fading. “Honestly… it probably would have. I don’t know that I would’ve listened, and Rogers definitely wouldn’t have,” he said. A thin prickle of humiliation hit as he remembered how enamored he’d been with the idea of Captain America. Too stupid to realize that the man behind the mask _definitely_ did not measure up to the ideal.

“This isn’t your fault,” Rhodey repeated, as though Tony would believe it if he said it enough. “Like I said, it’s not stupid or wrong to think that people could care about you.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tony mumbled, unconvinced. There were a lot of red flags that he should have recognized at the time, but he’d willfully and foolishly brushed them off. Like the fact that Rogers never stopped talking about Barnes, or the fact that Rogers’s trips in Tony’s jet had quadrupled in the past year, or the fact that the time they spent together as caregiver and Little had drastically diminished as Rogers took more trips. Well, of course they had. The closer Barnes got, the less interesting Tony became.

“Not maybe. Really,” Rhodey said, but he seemed to realize that it wasn’t worth pushing the argument now. Tony gave him a tiny, tired smile in appreciation of the effort. This was really hard, but having amazing people like Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, Cho, and even Strange on his side was making it a bit easier.


	5. Chapter 5

It was more challenging than Tony had expected to return to the tower, but before he knew it two weeks had gone by and he was finished with both his painkillers and his antibiotics. He was grateful to throw the empty pill bottles in the garbage. Painkillers were a necessary evil, but he’d never liked the way they made him feel. Concentrating on a boring contract was hard enough without feeling like your head might float away at any moment.

“Shall I pull your schedule up today, Boss?” FRIDAY asked as Tony looked at himself critically in the mirror. He hummed by way of response, narrowing his eyes.

Honestly, he didn’t look great. He’d lost weight even before Siberia, back when being the middleman between Rogers and Ross had him regularly chugging antacids, but his subsequent stay in the hospital and recuperation at him had not helped matters. His clothing, once perfectly tailored, was now at least a size, if not a size and a half, too big for him. His skin was pale, lacking his usual golden tones, and there were dark circles under his eyes despite all the sleep he’d been getting lately.

“Yeah, sure,” Tony said finally, shaking his head. “See if my tailor is free this morning, would you, FRI? I’m going to need some new suits.” Actually, make that a whole new wardrobe, he thought with a rueful glance at his closet. It was unlikely that much of anything fit him right now.

“Of course,” FRIDAY said, and then she went quiet which meant she was doing just that. Tony had no doubts that his favorite tailor would be able to squeeze him in, seeing as how Tony routinely spent thousands of dollars there every time he went. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about facing the press while looking like he had dressed up in his daddy’s clothing.

He stripped the suit off, wincing and hissing with pain when his ribs throbbed. He was _mostly_ healed, key word being mostly. Cho had warned him that even with the use of both Extremis and the cradle, his ribs and sternum might always be tender or fragile or both. They didn’t know yet just how well Tony was going to heal, as the healing methods used on him were somewhat unprecedented. She had instructed him to be careful.

Usually being careful wasn’t Tony’s strong point, but he figured there wasn’t much danger he could get into when he was going to his tailor’s and a press conference, followed by a meeting with the Accords Council. His mental health was surely going to suffer, but his physical health wouldn’t – there was nothing particularly strenuous about being measured or sitting at a conference table.

He pulled on a pair of jeans and used a belt to hold them up, then then settled for a long-sleeved shirt that had always been a little snug and which now wasn’t too loose. His left arm burned, particularly around his forearm, as he pulled the shirt on, and Tony grimaced. That was something he was always going to have to deal with, according to Cho. It would never be as strong as his right arm, and there was high chance he’d have numbness, tingling or even pain in the years to come. That was what happened when a car got dropped on you, not to mention all the other blows that side of his body had sustained through various battles.

“That’s what happens when you put a squishy human under gold titanium alloy,” Tony muttered, carefully putting his sling back on. He sighed at the relief that he felt when his arm was safely secured. Much as he hated wearing the sling, it was the lesser of two evils right now.

“Okay Boss, your tailor is waiting for you,” FRIDAY announced.

“Thanks,” Tony said, shoving his feet into some shoes. They didn’t have the lifts he preferred, but they also required much less effort on his part. They would do. He opened the door and stopped short.

“Good morning,” Stephen Strange said. 

“Seriously?” Tony said, putting his right hand on his hip. “I’m capable of leaving the tower by myself, you know. I don’t need an escort.” Or a baby-sitter, but he refused to let that word pass through his mouth right now. It was bad enough that Pepper, and to a lesser extent Happy and even Cho, had been fawning over him for the past two weeks. Strange hadn’t, or if he had Tony hadn’t noticed. He was hoping it was the former.

Strange widened his eyes innocently. “I’m just on my way out to visit the Sanctum,” he said. “I was going to ask if I could catch a ride with you.”

“A ride. When everyone knows you prefer to travel through your sparkly portals,” Tony said, not buying the act for a moment. Pepper was otherwise occupied this morning and Happy was with her because that was his job. He supposed it was foolish of him to think that meant he’d get to leave the tower alone.

“My sparkly portals are down for maintenance,” Strange said, somehow keeping a straight face, and Tony snorted.

“Yeah, sure they are,” he said dryly, carefully stepping around Strange. The man was so very tall, having at least half a foot on Tony when Tony wasn’t wearing his lifts, and being so close to him made Tony feel _things_ he wasn’t okay with feeling. He was not going to put his head on Strange’s shoulder and snuggle up to the man no matter what his instincts said, thank you very much.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Strange said, falling into step beside Tony as they walked down the hall, and Tony rolled his eyes but let him come.

It just so happened that the sanctum was not that far away from Tony’s tailor. They dropped Strange off first and then driver took Tony to the tailors. Tony kept his head down as he got out of the car, not wanting anyone to see him. Public opinion of what had happened was largely mixed even with Pepper doing her best at damage control, and the last thing he needed right now was to incite a riot.

“Ah, Monsieur Stark. Welcome back!”

Tony glanced up as the doors shut behind him and smiled wearily. “Good morning, Louis. Thanks for fitting me in.”

Louis handwaved the thanks away. “You are my best customer; I always have time for you! Clarissa, please lock the door. I don’t want anyone wandering in while I’m with Monsieur Stark.”

“Yes sir.” A petite blonde smiled shyly at Tony and stepped around him to lock the door. Tony smiled back, knowing that Louis required all his staff to sign non-disclosure agreements, and followed Louis towards the back of the store.

He had been coming here for well over twenty years now. Louis was well acquainted with how Tony liked the fit of his clothing. Best of all, he was skilled at tailoring pants in such a way that there was no attention drawn to what Tony had to wear underneath – a necessity when you were both a businessman and a Little with bladder and bowel control problems. 

“I need a suit to wear today too,” Tony said, gingerly stepping up onto the platform. “I have a press conference and an important meeting later.”

“Let me take your new measurements and see what I have for you,” Louis said, looking Tony over with a critical eye. Clarissa came in holding a tablet, and Louis began taking measurements and calling numbers out to her. She dutifully wrote each number down on the tablet. Tony remained as still as he could, not even wincing when he had to take his arm out of the sling in order for Louis to measure that part of him. 

“Do you have anything for me to wear today?” Tony asked when they were finished.

Louis stroked his chin, then smiled. “I believe so.” He walked over to Clarissa and muttered something to her; she nodded and left the room as quietly as she had come. 

When she returned, she was carrying a dark blue suit with a crisp white shirt and a light grey tie. She and Louis stepped out while Tony slowly, awkwardly and painfully dressed himself. He found himself huffing with frustrating when it came to doing the buttons up on the shirt; his fingers were tingling painfully and lacked the dexterity to slip the buttons through the tiny holes. This was where it would’ve been nice to have help.

His mind unwittingly supplied him with a mental image of Strange standing before him, buttoning up the shirt while smiling kindly.

Tony froze, baffled. Where the hell had that come from? Not only was that out of the blue, Strange wouldn’t have been able to help even if he had wanted to. Over the past couple of weeks Tony had become a little more familiar with the damage done to Strange’s hands. Buttoning up a shirt like this would’ve been way out of Strange’s abilities. Snaps, maybe, or simple fastenings, those Strange would have been able to do.

Like the snaps on a onesie –

“Mr. Stark, how are you making out?” Louis called, and Tony was endlessly grateful to the man for wrenching his brain away from the path it was going down.

“I need some help,” Tony admitted. The door opened immediately, and Louis came in. A true professional, he was unfazed by the sight of Tony’s open shirt.

“May I?” Louis asked. Tony nodded silently, embarrassed. Louis walked over and expertly did the buttons up, then picked up the blazer and held it so that Tony could slide his arms through with a minimum amount of pain. Then Louis did up the two buttons on the blazer before allowing Tony to turn to the mirror.

“That’s great,” Tony said, surveying his reflection. The suit was not a perfect fit, alternately too loose and too tight in different areas, but that would only be noticeable to a practiced eye. The critics would probably pick up on it, but he wasn’t in a position to be picky. The deep blue of the suit brought some color to his face, but the tie and shirt kept the ensemble from being too dark. It would photograph well.

“Excellent. I’ve placed an order for your wardrobe, as you requested. Would you like to look the selection over?” Louis asked.

“No, you know what I like,” Tony said, putting the sling back around his neck and carefully placing his arm in it. He had to bite back a sigh of relief as the strain was instantly relieved.

“I’ll charge this to your account, then,” Louis said, making a note on his tablet. “Now… there is a man out front saying that he is here to pick you up. A… Dr. Strange?”

Tony froze for a split second, then cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. Thank you,” he said, hoping Louis hadn’t noticed his pause. “Thank you.”

He slipped out of the room and headed up front. It didn’t take long to see Strange. With his height, Strange was an imposing figure even at the mildest of times and that made him easy to spot. As Tony approached, he was a little surprised to see that Strange looked perfectly at home amongst clothing that would have cost most people a full paycheck for one suit.

Then again, Strange had been a doctor once upon a time. Back then, he and Tony had circulated in the same crowds. Now Strange seemed to favor sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt for his daily wear, but there had been a time when Stephen Strange had been perfectly at home in a costly suit. In a way, Tony envied him for having left that life behind. He would have much rather have been in jeans and a t-shirt than a suit right now.

“All set?” Strange asked, looking at Tony expectantly.

“You didn’t need to pick me up,” Tony replied, his stomach twisting pleasantly as he stopped beside Strange. It was not an unfamiliar feeling, but it was unwelcome. He didn’t want to go down this road. Strange was a caregiver, but he was not, and never would be, _Tony’s_ caregiver. He had no idea how that thought had crept into his mind, but he resolved to get it out immediately.

But that proved easier said than done when Strange smiled and said, “I needed a drive back to the tower. I couldn’t have you leaving me behind.”

“I’m going to the press conference,” Tony said.

“Ah! Well then, I might as well join you,” Strange said in a too-bright tone, and Tony facepalmed. Great.


	6. Chapter 6

Honestly, Stephen was a little surprised that Tony hadn’t protested his presence more. It wasn’t until they got to the building where the press conference was being held that he began to understand that maybe Tony had _wanted_ him there – had wanted any friendly face – in the face of the fire that he was about undergo. The crowd of people outside spoke to that.

“Alright, here we go,” Tony said quietly, more to himself than to Stephen. He turned to look at Stephen and his eyes widened. “Wait, when did you change your clothes?”

“After I dropped you off,” Stephen said innocently, looking down at himself. The tailored, dark grey suit, pale blue shirt and dark blue tie didn’t fit as well as they used to, and all of it was a little out of date, but he was confident that he could walk in there on Tony’s arm and not feel ashamed of how he was dressed. And that was important, because the last thing he wanted to do was cause Tony more trouble today.

“You… of course you did.” Tony sighed and shook his head, looking slightly amused. 

The car came to a stop and Tony’s smile immediately vanished, replaced by a tired look that Stephen was growing to hate. But he understood why it was there because the instant Tony opened up the car door it was chaos. People were shouting questions and comments, all of them yelling to be heard over each other and flashes of camera light came from every direction. It was a swell of human bodies and electronic equipment and in spite of himself, Stephen drew back slightly.

Tony shot him an understanding look before pasting another, considerably faker, smile on his face and putting a pair of sunglasses on. He got out of the car in a surprisingly smooth movement for someone who was still injured, which meant it had to have hurt. Stephen frowned and hastened to follow, putting on his best stern expression. He moved up behind Tony as they made the walk into the building, fully ready to cast a spell in case any idiots got too close.

“That was madness,” he observed as they walked into the building, and Tony gave a soft, bitter laugh.

“That’s my life,” he said, voice pitched too low for anyone else to hear. “The Avengers hated it. None of them knew what to say to the press… every damn time any of them spoke to a journalist, they said or did something that got them into hot water. So they thrust me into the limelight every chance that they got, but then they’d call me out for how I handled things. Even though I was the only one who could consistently do it right.”

A fresh swell of anger rose up in Stephen’s chest; it was something that he had swiftly become accustomed to as he learned more about how the Avengers had treated a supposedly valued member of their team. To hear that they had forced Tony to do something none of them could do, only to criticize Tony’s effort, was not surprising in the slightest, yet it was infuriating.

“Handling the press is an art, and you do it exceptionally well,” Stephen said at last, hoping that he didn’t sound as furious as he felt.

Tony’s head turned in his direction, though the sunglasses made it difficult to ascertain what Tony was thinking as he said, “I pretty much had to. I grew up with all that attention. It’s one thing to fuck up when you’re a cute kid, but they take it a lot harder when you’re a fully grown superhero.”

“Then couldn’t you let Pepper handle it today?” Stephen asked. He was worried, more so than he wanted to let on, about Tony. He hadn’t known Tony well before this happened, but even to Stephen, Tony just seemed so _fragile_. Fresh off such an enormous betrayal, and not even fully healed physically, to say nothing of the mental and emotional damage, one wrong move would be enough to shatter Tony Stark irreparably.

“I couldn’t do that to her. Me being Iron Man has nothing to do with Pepper. It’s not her responsibility,” Tony said heavily, pulling his sunglasses off. For a split second he looked very small standing there in an ill-fitting suit, and Stephen was possessed with the urge to pull Tony into his arms and spirit him away to safety.

But then Pepper walked up to them, looking harassed, and said, “Thank goodness you’re here. They’re ready to begin if you are.”

“Far be it for me to keep them waiting,” Tony said, putting on another smile. “Stephen, I’ll see you afterwards.” He nodded at Stephen, and Pepper offered a tight smile, and then the two of them walked away. Stephen watched them go, a fresh burst of anxiety churning in his gut. He had the sinking suspicion that this was not going to go well, but what could he do? Tony was nothing if not stubborn when he put his mind to something.

He slipped into the back of the room where the press conference was going to be held. The room’s capacity was probably around two hundred people and he was positive that there had to be at least two hundred and fifty people squeezed in there, all of them vying to be in the front row. Stephen found himself a comfortable spot at the back and, with a smirk, levitated himself slightly so that he could easily see.

A hush fell over the room as Tony and Pepper walked out on stage. They looked very smart together: Pepper’s tailored white suit, a favorite of hers, was a good match to Tony’s dark blue suit. Though in her heels, she towered over Tony. Stephen had to bite his lip to stop a grin. He knew that Tony would throw a fit over the photos of the two of them standing side by side later on.

“Stark’s got his arm in a sling, huh? Wonder if he’s just trying to play the injury card,” one of the journalists just in front of Stephen whispered.

The journalist standing beside the first snickered. “Totally.”

Stephen glared at them. Tony would never do something like that. Anyone who knew Tony even a little bit would know that. This was exactly why Tony had hesitated over wearing his sling out on stage in the first place, and it was frustrating to know that Tony had been right to be concerned. People were judging him, and no doubt come morning there would be various conspiracy theories floating around. Never mind the fact that Tony had nearly died just less than a month ago and shouldn’t have been capable of standing upright at all!

“Good afternoon,” Pepper said into the microphone. “Thank you for coming. I know that all of you are here to hear from Tony Stark himself, so I’m going to pass things right along.” She adjusted the microphone so that it was lower and stepped away from the podium so that Tony could take her place.

The room hushed as Tony moved up to the podium. Tony surveyed the room without speaking for a moment before he cleared his throat and began. Stephen listened closely as Tony made his speech; it was pre-written, but Tony made it sound natural. He talked about the Accords, about the amendments that were going to be put in place for it, and about how the Avengers were not going to stand down when it came to world safety. He omitted any mention of Captain America and the others, so naturally that was the first thing that someone asked about.

“Mr. Stark, what can you tell us about Captain America and the other Avengers?” 

“I don’t know where they are if that’s what you’re asking. I have some suspicions and I’ve shared those with the proper authorities, but I’m not in a position to share that information,” Tony replied. 

“But what happened?” another journalist asked. “Why the fight in the first place?”

“There were several factors,” Tony said calmly. “One of the biggest was that the Avengers were divided in how they felt the Accords should be handled.” He paused to clear his throat again. “I’ve seen what happens firsthand when people get the chance to operate without any oversight. It never turns out well. I firmly believe that we all need to hold each other accountable.” His eyes swept the room. “No one person has the right to make a decision that will affect millions of people without someone else to keep them in check.”

“And what about the rumors of the Winter Soldier?” someone called out.

The only sign that Tony was bothered by that was the subtle change in his posture as he said, “The Winter Solider is something else I am not at liberty to discuss. I understand that the government is doing their best to figure out where he is and decide how he should be dealt with, but I have not been privy to any discussions beyond that. If the Avengers are called in to help bring the Winter Soldier in, that would be a different situation – but to date that has not happened.”

“Mr. Stark,” one of the journalists just in front of Stephen said. “How do you feel about the rumors that the United States government is issuing Captain America and the other Avengers a pardon for their actions?”

Whispers spread through the room as everyone turned to stare at Tony. Stephen immediately began to make his way out of the room. Luckily, he wasn’t afraid to be rude by outright shoving people out of the way. He made it to the door and stepped through, quickly walking up the hallway that Pepper and Tony had gone done. His heart was racing in his chest.

Tony hadn’t heard that before. He would have said something, of that Stephen was sure. No way would Tony be able to keep that news quiet. Which meant that someone had dropped a tip to that journalist with the sole intention of throwing Tony off his game today. He very much wanted to find that person and introduce them to the business end of the worst spell that Stephen could think of.

“Sorry, no entry,” one of the security staff said when Stephen rounded the corner.

“He’s with me,” Happy called out before Stephen could respond. The two security guards looked at each other, and then the one that had initially stopped Stephen shrugged and stepped aside.

“How’s Tony?” Stephen asked quickly, falling into step beside Happy.

“Shaken. Pepper got him off stage as quick as she could,” Happy said grimly. Stephen would have to watch what had happened later tonight. It wouldn’t be hard to find a copy of the footage, he was sure.

They emerged into a cramped area that was clearly backstage. Several people were talking over each other. Stephen paid most of them no mind, walking right over to where Tony was standing alone. He could hear Pepper’s voice coming from behind the curtain, so she must have been dealing with the rest of the press conference alone. Something else for Tony to feel guilty for.

He stopped in front of Tony and said, “How do you feel about sparkly portal travel now?”

Tony was ashen, but he tried his best to smile. “I thought they were under maintenance,” he said, and his voice gave a telling wobble on the last syllable that made Stephen’s heart ache.

“Miraculously, they’ve been fixed,” Stephen said, as gently as he knew how, and lifted his hands. His fingers flowed through the familiar, comfortable rhythms, scattering golden sparks everywhere as the portal formed. The other side showed the common room kitchen. He offered his arm to Tony, who took it with shaking hands, and the two of them stepped through together.


	7. Chapter 7

It was happening. Tony ground his teeth together as he paced back and forth, only vaguely aware that Pepper and Strange were having a quiet conversation behind him. He didn’t even try to listen to them; parts of his conversation with Everett Ross kept spinning around in his head until he felt like he wanted to dig his fingers into his brain just to make them stop. 

_”You can understand our concern, Mr. Stark. The world needs Captain America, and, if he’s not with the United States, then he’s against us. That can’t happen. He may have broken the law, but on occasion concessions can be made for that sort of behavior. Now before you ask, we’re not pardoning the Winter Solider – yet. But as he’s technically a war prisoner, it’s very likely that he’ll receive a full pardon too. We’re asking you to put the Avengers and the world’s safety ahead of your own inter-team squabble.”_

Tony had had to bite his tongue to keep from asking if “inter-team squabbles” was what they were calling attempted murder now. Or actually, considering that he had died more than once on the operating table, some courts would classify that as straight-up murder. But he hadn’t bothered. He already knew that Ross would turn himself inside out with platitudes, but at the end of the day it was what it was at this point.

In less than a week, Rogers, Barnes, Barton, Romanov, Wilson, Lang and Maximoff would be coming back. Just the thought of it was enough to make Tony’s hands shake. The week was going to fly by, he knew. In no time at all, he would be standing face-to-face with the man who had killed Tony’s parents and the man who had tried to kill Tony. His breathing quickened just imagining it, panic hot in his chest.

“Tony?” Pepper said from behind him. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Tony said, hoarse but honest. He wished that Rhodey were here, but Rhodey was still in the hospital and wouldn’t be released for at least another week since there had been some complications. Then again Rhodey would probably lose it on Steve the first time they saw each other, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Rhodey wouldn’t be there…

“They should all be in prison, not invited back here like they did nothing wrong,” Strange said. Tony glanced over at him. Sparks were literally flashing in Strange’s eyes. It was an oddly comforting sight.

“I don’t disagree, but I’m pretty sure that’s out of my hands,” Tony said tiredly. He slipped his sling off and fumbled with the buttons. Pepper let him struggle for a moment before she came over and did it herself, deftly undoing the buttons and helping Tony to slide the blazer from his shoulders. Behind her, Tony caught sight of Strange watching them and felt his gut twist with longing.

He wanted Strange’s help, not Pepper’s.

“Are they going to the Compound?” Pepper asked. “Because they don’t have to. Technically that’s S.I. property and you have every right to restrict their entry. I could call up our lawyers and make it happen; it would only take a few minutes for them to draw up the contract –”

“No,” Tony said. “That will just cause more trouble for me.” He could just imagine the outraged reaction if the media caught wind of that. Opinions seemed to be divided over whether Rogers and his crew should return, but that would only enflame the group that supported them. Just the thought of it all made him so exhausted he found it difficult to stay on his feet.

“Then what do you want to do?” Strange asked before Pepper could reply, standing up. He walked over, looking at Tony patiently – not trying to convince Tony to do one thing or the other, but just waiting. Tony kind of loved him for it.

“I – I think I want to sell the Compound and make it someone else’s problem,” he said slowly. “And I want to do it fast, before _they_ get here.” He put his sling back on over his shirt.

Pepper looked thoughtful. “I could make that happen. We could spin it to the Accords Council as a way for them to take more control over the Avengers, if they’re the ones who own the place where the team is living.”

“Will they want to take it on when they find out how much it costs?” Strange asked.

“Probably not, but with Tony’s support I’m sure I could make them an offer they can’t refuse,” said Pepper. “Part of me really wants to make life difficult for them, but –”

“Honestly, they’re probably going to do that for us,” Tony said tiredly. The Accords Council really had no idea what they were letting themselves in for. He hoped that they had deep pockets, because housing Rogers and his band of misfits was not cheap. Tony hadn’t minded at the time because they were his team and he had foolishly believed that meant something, but all of them had put a sizeable dent into his personal bank accounts.

Because there was Maximoff, who didn’t understand the value of a dollar considering she had never worked a day in her life. There was Romanov, who was used to having SHIELD subsidize whatever she wanted. There was Barton, who liked living the high life on someone else’s dollar. And then there was Rogers, who had never made any effort to understand inflation and therefore tended to bury his head in the sand when it came to money rather than acknowledge anything about it.

He was less sure about Barnes, Wilson or Lang. Out of the three, Wilson was the only one with any kind of money. But Tony had no idea if Wilson’s bank accounts had been seized for restitution. Even if they hadn’t, a few thousand dollars wouldn’t get you far if Barnes ate as much food as Rogers did – and considering that they were both super soldiers, that was a fair bet to make.

Frankly, it was probably for the best that Tony rid himself of the Compound. In a way, it hurt. He was saying one final goodbye to the dream of a team that supported him – but it was past time. That dream was never going to happen, and Tony had to accept that; he couldn’t let any of them get close enough to manipulate or betray him again. He’d never survive it.

“Okay,” Pepper said, drawing Tony’s attention back to her. “I’m going to get in contact with our lawyers and your real estate agent to start the process. I’ll have to call the bank and the Council…” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and started typing rapidly, probably drafting up an email to her P.A.

“Let me know if you need any help,” Tony told her, and Pepper gave him a distracted nod as she walked out of the room. Tony knew she wouldn’t take him up on the offer. Pepper _lived_ for stuff like this; she loved sinking her teeth into a problem and examining every possible angle until she’d come out the other side with the best possible solution. It was why Tony had never hesitated to make her S.I.’s CEO. The fact that she had extra motivation now that it was Rogers they were dealing with was just a bonus.

“You look tired,” Strange said softly, and Tony startled. He’d nearly forgotten Strange was there.

“I am,” he admitted, the truth slipping out before he could stop it. “Of all the ways for me to find out…” He wiped a hand over his face, wishing he could erase the moment from his memory.

“That was cruel. They did that on purpose.”

“They wanted a response,” Tony said. And they’d gotten one, because Tony had been prepared for anything except that. Pepper had gotten him off stage as quick as she could, but he was sure his expression had said a million words in that split second before he could compose himself. 

He really shouldn’t have left. That had been a mistake on his part. Everyone would take it as a sign of weakness and read a lot into it. He should’ve stood his ground and pretended that he’d already known, or at least that the news didn’t matter to him. He didn’t want Rogers and the others to matter anymore, and he hated the fact that they did. The media was going to be relentless over the next few weeks.

“Can I do anything?” Strange asked. Tony looked up at him in surprise, realizing that Strange had closed the distance between them while Tony was distracted. They were close enough now that Tony could’ve touched Strange if he’d wanted to.

And oh, did he want to. Just once, he wanted to be able to put his head on someone’s shoulder and just _not think_ for a few hours. He wanted to be able to trust that someone else would put him first and do all of the thinking _for_ him. He wanted someone who cared about him, Tony Stark, and not because he was a genius or had lots of pretty toys or because he had deep pockets.

He had thought that Rogers was someone he could do that with, but time and James Barnes had proven him wrong. Tony was quickly getting to the point where he didn’t _want_ to trust people anymore. Strange had saved his life, but so had Rogers once upon a time. In their line of work, that didn’t necessarily mean anything…

In the absence of an answer, Strange’s concern visibly deepened. “Supper, I think,” he said, more to himself than to Tony. “You haven’t eaten all day and you need to get something in your stomach.”

“You don’t know that,” Tony said. It was true – food had been the very last thing on his mind – but Strange didn’t have any proof of that.

The look that Strange gave him then was a mixture of fondness and exasperation. Tony’s stomach twisted because that was a look he recognized from Rhodey. It was Rhodey’s ‘Tony is being dumb but cute and I can’t decide if I should call him out or play along’ face. Why did Strange look that way?

“I’m a doctor. I know when someone isn’t following doctor’s orders,” Strange replied. “FRIDAY, would you order us food from Tony’s favorite restaurant? Maybe a soup?”

“Absolutely,” FRIDAY chirped.

Tony cast a dark look at the ceiling. “Traitor.”

“I’m here for your health, Boss, and you haven’t eaten since yesterday morning,” FRIDAY said.

“Yesterday morning? Tony!” 

Tony winced, suddenly feeling like a little kid, and said defensively, “It didn’t seem that long ago.”

Strange sighed. “You were supposed to be eating whenever you took your pills and you just finished those this morning. How was your stomach not upset?”

“Dunno,” Tony mumbled, shrugging his right shoulder, and wrapping his arm around his stomach. In all honesty, his stomach had hurt a lot yesterday. But he’d attributed it to nerves over the press conference today and hadn’t paid much attention to it. He supposed he should’ve put two and two together and realized it was the pills.

He hunched his shoulders slightly, waiting for the lecture that would surely be unleashed on him. Lectures had been Rogers’s favorite method of communication, after all. The whole team had been subjected to them at one time or another, but Tony had gotten them the most. In the beginning Tony had either ignored them or snapped back, which usually escalated things into a shouting match. After he and Rogers started age playing together, Tony had borne the lectures in a stoic, embarrassed silence.

“Tea,” Strange said.

Tony blinked. “Wh-what?”

“You should have some tea and crackers while we’re waiting for our dinner. It’ll help your stomach to settle,” Strange said, giving a decisive nod. “FRIDAY, could you start the kettle?”

“Sure,” FRIDAY said.

“Tea,” Tony repeated dumbly. “You’re making me… tea.”

“If Christine is to be believed, it can cure many ills,” Strange said, rolling his eyes. Not that Tony believed his attitude for a moment – Christine was to Strange as Pepper was to Tony.

“… Right,” Tony said, not sure what to say to that. “You’re not… mad?”

“Mad? Why?”

“Because I didn’t eat,” Tony said.

Something flashed across Strange’s face, there-and-gone too quickly for Tony to parse, and then he said, in a voice gentler than anyone would’ve thought him capable of: “No, Tony, I’m not mad.”

Tony wasn’t really sure how to handle that, and it must have shown because all Strange did was beckon to him. He willingly followed Strange into the kitchen and sat down at the table when he was directed to. He stared down at the wood as Strange puttered around and spoke to FRIDAY in a low voice. His head ached. He was tired. He just wanted it all to stop.


	8. Chapter 8

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Pepper whispered.

“No,” Tony said shortly. “But I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Pepper sighed. “I suppose not.”

Being there when the Rogue Avengers first touched down on American soil was not at all how Tony wanted to spend a Wednesday afternoon. The thought of getting into the armor and running away was getting more tempting by the minute. Hell, he could say the word and Pepper would have a car here in less than two minutes. There were so many ways to escape…

But it would only be prolonging the inevitable. Tony had figured out a long time ago that sometimes unpleasant encounters were best had on your own terms. By being here right now, he was controlling when he saw Rogers and Barnes again. They wouldn’t be able to throw him off guard or show up when he was least expecting it, and there was a certain value in that.

Plus, he was sort of looking forward to seeing their faces when they were told how things would be now.

Tony had spent the better part of the past week having many, _many_ conversations with the Accords Council. He had explained in no uncertain terms that the Tony Stark cash cow was now done. He wouldn’t be giving a dime of his own money to fund the Avengers; they were going to have to either source their own funding or figure out how to make do with what the government gave them.

He had also made it clear that he had no interest in working with any of them unless a situation warranted their collaboration. The Council had been less than pleased about that announcement, but Tony had swayed them to his side by clearly lining out the benefits to having _two_ teams as opposed to one. It was pretty hard to argue with two teams that could swap in for each other as needed, or the value of having two teams based out of different locations – close though they may be – as opposed to having all of the Avengers located under one easy-for-the-pickings roof.

Frankly, Tony hadn’t cared what the Council thought. It would take something major to get him back on the field with Rogers right now, when the scars of what had happened in Siberia were literally still fresh. Perhaps, given time, Tony would be able to figure out how to work with them. He supposed that if they all remained Avengers, he would have to. But he certainly wasn’t going to do it before he was ready.

A familiar spray of sparks caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see a portal open. At first frightening because of his memories of New York, Tony now found the sight of Strange’s portals to be comforting because they always heralded a visit from the man himself. He tried to ignore the way he automatically relaxed as Strange stepped through to join them.

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked.

“Ah, you’re right on time,” Pepper said cheerfully at the same time.

“Wait – what? You knew he was coming?” Tony said, baffled.

“I invited him,” said Pepper. “I thought it was best for us to have some back up just in the event that things went south.”

“I wanted to come anyway,” Strange said, smoothing a wrinkle away. He was dressed in his full sorcerer regalia today, complete with the Cloak around his shoulders. 

“You didn’t have to,” Tony said, not sure how to react. He couldn’t deny that he was grateful to have Strange there, but he hadn’t asked because he hadn’t thought Strange would come. That he was here anyway – 

“I know, but I wanted to,” Strange said. “I’d like them to know what will happen if they try anything.” He smiled, and it was a very cold smile. 

“Let’s hope they’re not stupid enough to try,” Pepper said, an equally chilly glitter in her eyes. Tony looked between them and surpressed the urge to shiver. He was suddenly relieved that Pepper and Strange were both on his side. Separately the two of them could be a little scary; together they were downright frightening and he almost felt sorry for anyone dumb enough to get in their way.

Almost.

He turned away as Pepper and Strange continued to mutter at each other, their conversation taking on an increasingly dark tone that Tony thought it was best that he didn’t listen to. He scanned the cloudless sky and felt his chest tighten when he spotted something that looked very much like a plane coming towards them. Automatically, he sought out his wrist to make sure that he was wearing his wrist gauntlet. He was.

Pepper and Strange came to stand on either side of him, and the three of them watched in silence as the jet landed. It was one of T’Challa’s, sleeker and far more modern than anything the U.S. government owned, and Tony had to wonder whether T’Challa had offered the use of the jet as a favor or because T’Challa wanted Rogers and his crew out of Wakanda that much faster. 

He hadn’t spoken to T’Challa since before everything that had happened, but Tony had his suspicions that it might be the latter. 

Other people, members of the Council and of the government, joined him, Pepper and Strange. So by the time the door lowered, there was a small crowd of people waiting on the tarmac. Tony was gripped by the sudden, powerful urge to be sick as Steve Rogers appeared in the doorway, shoulders thrown back and a cocky, self-assured smile in place. From the way Rogers looked around, anyone watching would have mistaken him for a king that was returning to his country.

“Good evening, Mr Rogers,” the Council’s representative said. She was a petite, unassuming woman with brown hair pulled up in a bun, dressed in a brown suit with a pink shirt and heels. By all accounts she looked like the sort of person that you could steamroll over, but something about the set of her chin suggested that she wouldn’t go down easily.

“Ma’am,” Rogers said, striding down the plank. Tony tensed as the rest of the group followed: Wilson, Barton, Lang, Maximoff, Romanov… and Barnes.

He wasn’t sure what was worse, the mocking smile on Barton’s face or the way that Maximoff wiggled her fingers in his direction.

Something solid and warm leaned into Tony, and he realized with a start that it was Strange. There was fury in Strange’s blue-grey eyes; he stared at Maximoff like he wanted nothing more than to vaporize her on the spot. And since there was no doubt in Tony’s mind that Strange would come out the victor in a fight between him and Maximoff, Tony let himself relax again.

“My name is Clarissa McGrath,” the woman said. “I’m here on the Council’s behalf to help you get settled.”

“What, Stark is too good for us now?” Barton said loudly.

“You couldn’t afford my time,” Tony said before he could stop himself, and heard Strange snort.

“Mr. Stark is here as another member of the Avengers,” Clarissa said before Barton could retort. “He is not here as a member of the Council.”

“What does that mean?” Rogers said, eyes flicking between them. “There’s not going to be any trouble, right?”

“Of course not,” Clarissa said pleasantly. “We are all on the same team.”

It was Maximoff’s turn to snort.

“Are we though?” Romanov spoke up, folding her arms over her chest. “On the same team, I mean. Because last time I checked, there were some people here who weren’t exactly willing to be good teammates.” She looked meaningfully at Tony. “I don’t know that I want those people out in the field with me.”

“You can submit any concerns about teammates to the Council at a later date,” said Clarissa, her smile growing considerably more strained now. Tony wished her luck. With this crew, she was going to need a dumpster truck of patience.

“It’s fine, Tash. Steve knows how to handle Stark if he gets out of line again,” Barton said with a smirk.

“Yeah, or we can let Barnes do it,” Maximoff jeered.

Tony swallowed and pretended not to hear them, instead turning to Clarissa. “Is there anything else you need us for?” he asked her, acting like his heart wasn’t racing over the thought of a repeat of what had happened in Siberia. 

Clarissa considered the question and then turned and whispered to a couple of the people with her. Then Pepper got in on the conversation. That left Tony standing awkwardly with Strange, while Maximoff and Barton openly glared at him. Wilson, Lang, and – surprisingly – Barnes were acting like Tony wasn’t there. Romanov leaned over and muttered something to Rogers. Tony clenched his fists as Rogers turned to him.

“I really hope we can put everything behind us, Tony,” Rogers said earnestly, sticking a hand out. Tony had to fight himself not to flinch back.

“Excuse me?” Tony said tightly.

“You made a mistake,” Rogers said magnanimously. “It happens to everyone. We’re all willing to overlook what happened so that we can fight as the Avengers again. We’ll just make sure that it never happens again.”

“Oh _will_ you,” Strange said, and Tony startled. He’d nearly forgotten Strange was there. His breathing had quickened and it was suddenly very warm.

Rogers pulled his hand back and looked at Strange with a faint frown. “Sorry, who are you?”

“Dr. Stephen Strange.”

Only Romanov reacted, and it was an aborted movement – like she was going to touch Steve, but didn’t.

“Right,” Rogers said, with the sort of cluelessness that clearly suggested he had no idea who Strange was. “Well, Tony, I think we’re going to have some sort of system in place to make sure you don’t go crazy again. I’ll have to check over your projects every day. No more murder ‘bots!” He smiled, as though that statement was in any way humorous. “Natasha’s volunteered to help with that too. And you’ll have to train a lot more closely with the team. No more going off on your own, got it? We need to spend a lot more time together to make sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to do. We’re a team and we have to function as one.”

“A team,” Tony repeated numbly. The last time he’d heard Rogers say those words, it had been at the airport and Rogers was demanding to know why Tony was splitting the team apart. As though Tony was the one who had _ever_ had a say about that –

“That’s right. It’ll be important for us to show a united front,” Rogers went on, and Tony knew what that meant. In the public they’d be all smiles, but as soon as they were in private it would be a different story. 

“Yeah, so that means you’ll actually have to show up,” Barton said with a sneer. In a different world, Tony would’ve rolled his eyes and pointed out that he was the one who handled 99% of the Avengers publicity. It had always been like that, since Barton and the others couldn’t be trusted not to say something stupid in front of the cameras.

But in this world, Tony was fighting back the panic surging up in his chest because he _couldn’t_. The future Rogers was painting sounded like something out of Tony’s worst nightmare, where he would be their punching bag but unable to do anything to retaliate – or even, he realized, say anything about it, because none of them would be willing to listen. Barton’s comment about Rogers handling it if Tony “got out of line” made him shudder.

“So, how about it? Let bygones be bygones?” Rogers roughly thrust out his hand, too fast –

A strong body shouldered in between Tony and Rogers, halting that hand, and Strange said coolly, “I think you should speak to the Council before you decide on your own what’s going to happen. Dr. Stark took time out of his busy schedule to greet you at the Council’s request, but now you’re here and he’s done his duty and we both have an appointment. So we’ll be going.” He turned away and the end of the Cloak wrapped around Tony’s waist, towing him along.

“Running away like a coward,” Maximoff said contemptuously. 

Strange didn’t even look back, like the comment wasn’t even worth his time; he lifted his hands and made several movements with his figners, and then Maximoff was shrieking as a portal opened before them. Strange stepped through, pulling Tony along with him, and the last thing Tony saw was Pepper’s furious expression as she rounded on the Avengers.


	9. Chapter 9

Anger wasn’t really an appropriate word to describe how Stephen was feeling as he guided Tony through the portal: sheer, unadulterated _rage_ was probably a more apt description. He wanted nothing more than to storm back through the portal and cast a truly nasty spell on Steve Rogers. Preferably one that would result in Rogers growing a few new appendages.

But he didn’t need the Cloak lightly slapping his leg to know what a bad idea that would be, and so he reluctantly let the portal swirl shut behind them. In the sudden silence of the tower, Tony’s breathing seemed overly loud – and fast. He was hyperventilating, Stephen realized. Panicking. It was no wonder, considering how up close and personal that Rogers had gotten. 

“Tony?” he said out loud, testing the waters.

Tony didn’t even look up. His head was tilted down towards the floor, hands loosely clasped into fists at his sides, so tense that he was almost vibrating. Stephen watched him for a moment, wondering where Tony’s head was. It certainly wasn’t here. In Siberia, maybe? That seemed most likely, but Stephen also suspected that Siberia wasn’t the first time that Tony had come under fire from his so-called team.

“Tony,” he said again, firmer this time, and took a step closer. 

That was a mistake.

With a sound that anyone would have sworn came from a terrified animal, Tony jerked away from him. He was in such a panic to get away from Stephen that he tripped over the coffee table and fell to the ground, landing with a sound of pain. Stephen had to stop himself from darting over to Tony to see the damage, knowing that to do so would just make things worse.

“It’s okay, Tony,” he said, knowing that the words were falling on deaf ears.

“Boss,” FRIDAY called out at the same time. “Boss, you’re in the tower.” She went on to recite the date, time, and weather conditions in the blandest voice that Stephen had ever heard from her. When that wasn’t enough, she moved on to describing the latest issue of Scientific America.

The Cloak slithered down off Stephen’s shoulders and darted away before he could grab it. Stephen bit back a curse as the Cloak snuck over to and draped itself over Tony. He was half-expecting Tony to go into another panic, but instead Tony actually relaxed a little once he was covered by the Cloak. Clearly, he found the Cloak’s weigh comforting and Stephen filed that bit of information away.

Since FRIDAY and the Cloak seemed to have the situation well in hand, Stephen went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea – and swear, just a little, where certain ears couldn’t hear. He hadn’t been this furious for a long time. Obviously the situation between Tony and Rogers was bad, but _that_ was a level of sheer obliviousness that Stephen hadn’t thought anyone capable of. He wasn’t sure if it was more baffling or terrifying that Rogers had no awareness for the damage he’d caused Tony.

Or perhaps, he reflected grimly, it was more that Rogers just didn’t care. Acknowledging any slight to Tony Stark would mean accepting that Rogers had treated Tony poorly or unacceptably and based on what Stephen knew of Rogers that was incredibly unlikely. Rogers seemed to think that he could treat people however he liked to get whatever he wanted, and damn the consequences.

Well, that stopped here. Stephen had a better understanding of what he’d seen in the future now. Before, he had been a little confused as to why so many of the better futures showed Tony separating himself from the Avengers. Now, he knew that Tony remaining in close contact with any of them would mean the end of the world as surely as it would have if Tony had died in Siberia.

“Perhaps I should throw them in a black hole,” he muttered, eyeing the kettle. FRIDAY must have guessed his intent because it was already on. The coffeepot was on too, but the last thing that Tony needed right now was caffeine. That would only make his heartbeat faster and could send him back into a panic attack.

No, what Tony needed was to remain calm. His eyes flicked towards the counter. Neatly lined up, though rarely used from what Stephen could see, was a row of bottles and sippy cups. He had seen Tony use the sippy cups several times when he couldn’t get out of bed and hadn’t yet regained the full use of his upper body, but Tony had ‘graduated’ to normal cups a few days ago and hadn’t gone back.

In fact, Tony hadn’t been in his headspace since before Siberia, according to what Pepper had said. Littles weren’t Stephen’s area of specialty, but he knew enough to know that there was an excellent chance this whole thing could drive Tony deep into his headspace. And since Tony’s previous caregiver was the one responsible for that, the only question that remained was what Stephen was going to do about it.

He contemplated the two options for a moment. He could watch over Tony from afar until Pepper returned and then leave Tony to her; she wasn’t a Caregiver, but she was as good as any baseline could be at caring for a Little. And she knew Tony very well. Well enough to know exactly what Tony would need right now. 

Or…

Stephen clenched his jaw, knowing that he was on the precipice of a _decision_ and not liking it. He wasn’t prepared for this moment, yet here it was regardless. He could leave, and Tony would never judge him for it – Tony probably wouldn’t even dare to think that Stephen would have ever done anything but leave. But Stephen would judge himself for it. Because if he went now, he would never have an opportunity like this again.

“FRIDAY,” he said, very quietly.

“Yes?” FRIDAY said. The sound of her voice never once quieted in the other room, which was good.

“I…” Stephen trailed off, realizing that he was at a loss for words. It didn’t happen often, but it never failed to be discomfiting when it did.

“Boss would like your help, if you were to choose to give it,” FRIDAY said. Stephen smiled grimly. Apparently he wasn’t as good at covering up as he thought if both FRIDAY and Christine had pegged his true intentions before Stephen had even admitted them to himself.

He closed his eyes. “I’ve never really had a Little before,” he admitted. Christine had said it best: his bedside manner was sorely lacking. He wasn’t gentle, nor was he kind. 

“In all fairness, Boss has never really had a Caregiver,” said FRIDAY, and she wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t like the bar for Tony’s caregivers had been set very high. Stephen wasn’t sure if it was a comfort or not to think that he couldn’t possibly be worse than Steve Rogers.

Nothing had to be decided right now, he reminded himself. Tony was hardly in a position to decide what, if anything, he wanted. The best thing to do would be to care for Tony but keep himself at a distance. Maybe tomorrow, the two of them could have a chat. Stephen grimaced at the thought of actually _talking_ , but it was going to be one of those necessary evils.

And in the meantime, he would have a taste of what being a caregiver was like and could decide for himself whether it was something he wanted before that conversation took place. 

With a decisive nod, Stephen picked up one of the bottles. He knew enough about littles, and about Tony, to be able to guess that Tony would find a bottle more comforting than a sippy cup. He found a container of milk in the fridge and filled the bottle about three-quarters of the way. Then he ran it under hot water until it reached a half-decent temperature.

“Your tea,” FRIDAY reminded him as he walked to the kitchen door.

“Oh, uh, just let the water cool. I’ll come back later,” Stephen said. He’d forgotten the reason why he’d come into the room in the first place, and now it seemed more important to tend to Tony.

He shook his head at himself, amused. Christine would’ve been blown away to hear that he was placing Tony above himself. 

“Tony?” he called out softly, re-entering the living room. He didn’t need to look far to find Tony.

At some point, Tony had moved to the couch – or, more likely, the Cloak had moved Tony there, because Tony was currently wrapped up in the Cloak so securely that he wouldn’t have been able to move even if he wanted to. Stephen examined the way that the Cloak was folded around Tony and realized that the Cloak had effectively swaddled him; the only part of Tony that could be seen was his head.

Tony’s eyes opened a slit at Stephen’s approach. If there was one word to describe him right then, it would’ve been ‘drained’. His eyes were glassy, skin pale aside from flushed cheeks, and beads of sweat stood out starkly on his forehead. He tracked Stephen’s movement, which was a good sign, but didn’t otherwise react, which wasn’t.

“Hi,” Stephen said quietly, taking a seat beside him. It was impossible to tell with the way the Cloak was covering him, but he made a mental note to check Tony over later. Tony had hit the floor hard when he tripped earlier; he could’ve bruised himself or worse, and he knew Tony well enough by now to know that Tony would never admit it if he was in pain.

Naturally, Tony didn’t respond. He blinked slowly, lashes fluttering against his cheek.

Stephen wasn’t a sentimental man, nor was he an overly emotional man. But right then, his heart clenched for Tony Stark. It wasn’t right for one person to look this defeated. Tony, for all that he did for the people around him, deserved much better than this. There were pitifully few people in Tony’s corner, and right now one of those few people were laid up in a hospital bed.

Rogers would never get to Tony again, Stephen decided. Not without running into Stephen first.

He held the bottle up so that Tony could see it and said, “I thought you might need something to help you calm down.”

Tony’s eyes immediately darted to the bottle; he said nothing but licked his lips.

Stephen decided to take that as a ‘yes’ and lowered the bottle. Tony opened his mouth, allowing the nipple to slide in, and that’s where they ran into a problem. Because of his hands, Stephen couldn’t hold the bottle steady. His hand was shaking too much. He watched the milk inside the bottle slosh around and flushed.

Of course he couldn’t take Tony on as a Little. Even setting aside his acerbic personality, he lacked the fine motor control necessary to do many of the tasks that a Little as young as Tony would need. 

He sat there, and held as still as possible, until the bottle was mostly empty and Tony’s eyes were shut. Then he set the bottle down – or dropped it, rather, and it was a good thing that it was made from plastic, not glass, or it would have shattered. Stephen stared down at the bottle with growing frustration. Sometimes it seemed like no matter how far he progressed, he still ended up back where he started. Not being able to care for a Little had never been a problem before, but now…

“Look after Tony for me,” he said to the Cloak. 

It waved a corner at him, as though to say it didn’t need to be told how to do its job.

Stephen stood up and made his way out of the room; between FRIDAY and the Cloak, he knew that Tony would be very comfortably looked after for the short term. He needed to speak to Christine.


	10. Chapter 10

For once, Tony woke as though he was slowly pulling himself out of a thick fog rather than jerking awake with a racing pulse. Initially, he wasn’t sure of the reason for the lassitude. That encounter with the Avengers should’ve left him on the edge for hours, especially since Rogers had gotten a little too close and personal. Just remembering it made Tony shudder.

And that’s when he realized that there was a warm material snugly wrapped around him.

He opened his eyes, blinking slowly. The first thing he saw was the empty bottle on the coffee table. It had clearly once been filled with milk, as the dried, crusted remains of said liquid were pooled inside. Hazy memories rushed over him then. A bottle of warm milk pressed to his lips, and over the bottle – even warmer, soft grey-blue eyes peering down at him as he drank.

“FRIDAY, did Strange give me a bottle?” Tony mumbled.

“He did indeed,” FRIDAY said cheerfully, clearly relieved that Tony was no longer lost to the depths of a severe panic attack. “Once you settled down for a nap, he went upstairs to make a call.”

“Right,” Tony breathed, baffled – and wistful, since he couldn’t really remember much more than that.

He made to sit up, and the material around him slowly unwound. It was then that Tony realized he’d been securely wrapped up in the Cloak. At first he thought that Strange had done that, but then the Cloak’s right bottom corner flicked up and brushed against Tony’s cheek.

“You swaddled me?” Tony asked.

The corner nodded.

“Thank you,” Tony said softly, stroking the fabric lightly with his fingers. He usually didn’t have the luxury of wrapping himself up like that during a panic attack, but it was one of the things that helped the most. The steady pressure was both grounding and an escape from too many textures, and – if Tony closed his eyes – was just a little bit like getting a hug.

He stood up on unsteady feet, resting a hand on the couch to steady himself, and wondered if Pepper had left the Compound yet. Depending on how furious she was, she might still be there yelling. The thought was enough to bring a small smirk to Tony’s lips. The Avengers had never seen Pepper when she was in a fury. They all thought that Pepper’s light scolding’s and mock-anger was the true extent of her rage. They had _no_ idea, but he was sure that they were learning.

“I have alerted Stephen that you’re awake,” FRIDAY announced.

“What!? FRI, no!” Tony said, straightening up. He wasn’t ready to face Strange yet; he didn’t know how he felt about Strange taking care of him, and he hadn’t decided how he was going to respond –

But it was too late.

Strange swept into the room, looking Tony over with a clinical eye that suggested he had slipped into doctor mode, and said, “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine,” Tony said, which wasn’t completely true. As was typical following a panic attack like that, he was a little light-headed, dizzy, and tired. But he didn’t feel nearly as bad as he usually did, so he figured that ‘fine’ was a decent middle-of-the-road response.

Clearly, judging by his frown, Strange disagreed. “You don’t look fine. You’re pale and you’re shaking.”

“I am not,” Tony objected, but when he looked down at himself he realized that Strange was right. He _was_ shaking.

“Sit down before you fall down,” Strange said, closing the distance between them so quickly that Tony almost asked him if he’d teleported. Gentle hands landed on Tony’s shoulders and lightly pushed him down. The Cloak swept out of the way just in time, leaving Tony to sink down onto the couch.

Strange remained close, peering into Tony’s eyes, placing two fingers on Tony’s wrist to check his pulse, and then touching Tony’s forehead to test for a fever. Tony submitted to the check without complaint. His chest tightened every time Strange’s hands touched him in some way. The touches, however fleeting, felt good. 

“So what’s the verdict, Doc? Am I gonna survive?” he asked, aiming for lightheartedness.

“You will, but Rogers might not,” Strange replied.

Tony smiled in spite of himself. “Yeah, Pepper was pissed.”

“Pepper wasn’t the only one,” said Strange. “Have you always had that sort of reaction to them, or is it because of what happened in Siberia?”

“Siberia didn’t help, let’s put it that way,” Tony said quietly. Rogers had always made him feel a bit uncomfortable, but that was more because he knew he was constantly found wanting in Rogers’s eyes. Until Siberia, Tony had never been scared of him.

Now he was, much as he hated to admit it, because he knew exactly what Steve Rogers was capable of.

Strange’s frown deepened. “You shouldn’t be around them. It’s not good for your mental health.”

“Because I’m a Little?” Tony said, fully prepared to argue – he had never allowed his classification to stop him before, and he’d be damned if he let it start now – but Strange shook his head.

“No, because Rogers attacked you and left you traumatized as a result. Possibly with PTSD, but I couldn’t give you an official diagnosis. I’m a doctor, not a psychologist or a psychiatrist,” Strange told him. “That would be the case regardless of your classification, because you’re a human and that’s what happens when people we trust betray us.” He sounded a bit like he was speaking from experience.

Tony swallowed, dropping his gaze. “I just wasn’t good enough,” he said, very quietly. “I should have realized that from day one. I threw myself at them, offered them whatever they want, and thought that might be enough to make things different this time.”

But it had never been good enough, and it never would be. Tony could see that now. Their attitude just now had more than proven that. They still saw Tony as their own personal scapegoat. He wasn’t worth anything else to them. And what Tony hated the most was how much that _hurt_. He wished that they didn’t matter to him at all. He clenched his hands into fists.

There was a quiet pause, and then Strange sat down beside him. “The day in the hospital I first came to talk to you, you told me that no one wanted or needed you.”

“I don’t remember that,” Tony said, immediately mortified. He cast his memory back, but nothing really came to mind. Of course, he’d been out of his mind on painkillers at the time. 

“I’ve spent enough time with you to realize that you’re wrong,” Strange declared. “Pepper, Rhodes, and Happy all need you. They’re your friends, aren’t they? They don’t stick around you because you’re offering them something. Even if you fired Pepper and Happy tomorrow, they would still be here. Same goes for Rhodes if you stopped giving him upgrades to his armor. Right?”

“Right,” Tony admitted with a faint smile because he couldn’t deny that even if he wanted to. 

“And I told you that the rest of the world needed you,” Strange went on. “It was the truth. Do you know why I rescued you in Siberia? How I came to be there?”

“No, actually. I always wanted to ask, but I wasn’t sure you would tell me.”

“I was looking into the future,” Strange said, as though that was something that people did every day. “There are many possible futures, of course. So many…”

Tony glanced at him, but Strange was looking off into the distance at something only he could see.

The cloak nudged Strange, and Strange startled and glanced back at Tony.

“What was I saying?” he said.

“You were saying there were a lot of futures,” Tony told him.

“Ah, yes. You can’t even imagine how many futures there are, Tony. It’s truly infinite. Every decision we make creates another potential future. Trying to see them all is impossible; actively trying to make just _one_ future happen could easily drive a man insane. Because although I can glimpse these futures, I can’t see all of the fine, intimate details that led to them.”

Tony frowned faintly, contemplating this, before he said, “I don’t see how this relates to you coming to save me in Siberia. If there are so many potential futures, how did you know I was there?”

“Because more than one future led to you and Rogers meeting there,” Strange said in a gentle voice that most people wouldn’t have thought him capable of. “Truthfully, I didn’t know for sure that you were there – but I needed to check. Do you know the common denominator in many of the futures I looked into?”

“No,” Tony said. All this talk of futures was starting to make his head hurt.

“It was you. You are the reason that the world survives and continues to flourish. You, Tony. In every future where you died, so did much of the universe.”

Tony stared at him, shocked speechless.

Strange met his gaze evenly. “So I went to Siberia to rescue you, and brought you to the hospital so that your life could be saved. I saved many other people in the process. That was the extent of my duty, or so I thought, but I found that I couldn’t leave you behind so easily. I didn’t know why… or perhaps I was unwilling to admit it to myself. Christine always did tell me that my emotional capabilities were lacking.”

“I’m sure she was much less polite about it than that,” Tony croaked, and Strange smirked.

“Indeed she was, but I won’t repeat what she said. The point is, I started out wanting to save you because the world needed you and because it was the right thing to do. No more, no less.”

“But now?” Tony whispered.

“But now…” Strange grimaced and looked away. It seemed that his courage, such as it was, had run out.

So Tony spoke up. “I’ve never had a caregiver,” he declared, which he was sure was not a surprise to Strange. “Not really. It was always hard to trust people. My headspace is so young. I can’t protect myself in that state. I thought that with Rogers…” 

And oh, did that still hurt. Maybe it always would.

“But it turned out that he wasn’t the person I thought he was, so I still don’t think I’ve ever had a proper caregiver.” Tony stopped clenching his fists, instead bouncing his knee anxiously. “I thought that after you saved me, you were just hanging around waiting for the ideal opportunity to ask me for a reward.” He forced a laugh. “Actually, I couldn’t decide if that was magnanimous of you or just plain insulting. Why drag it out? I didn’t know why you didn’t just say what you wanted and be done with it.”

“I told you –” Strange began.

“Yeah, I know. You didn’t want anything. But I didn’t believe you. Until now.” Tony inhaled slowly. “It makes more sense to me now that you had a reason for saving me, and I appreciate you telling me even if I’m not sure I really believe that I’m _that_ important to the safety of the universe. If you want to consider your duty done, and go without any repercussions, now is your chance.”

There was another pause before Strange spoke. “And if I chose not to go, what sort of repercussions would I be dealing with?”

Hope was a terrible, wonderful thing. Tony’s heart started to race. They were both dancing around the subject, but he was reasonably – sort of – sure that they were both on the same page here. But there was also a small chance that he was wrong. If he was, he wanted Strange to be upfront about it. He didn’t think he could handle another betrayal. That might just be thing to break Tony Stark irreparably.

“I’m old,” Tony whispered, staring down at his lap. “I want a caregiver. I know that’s silly, but it’s something I’ve always wanted. If you stuck around, I don’t think I could stop myself from wanting _you_. So you’d have to deal with that. I wouldn’t make you take care of me, and I’m sorry you had to do it today – but you should know that now, before you make your decision. That would be your biggest repercussion. So tell me, Dr. Strange. What’s your decision?”


	11. Chapter 11

Christine called him an idiot. Gently, like she always did, but an idiot.

“I didn’t call you to be insulted,” Stephen said. He told himself that he wasn’t pouting, but he definitely was. Thank goodness this wasn’t a video call.

“Then you shouldn’t have called me at all,” she replied. There was an edge of tension in her voice that wasn’t normal.

“What happened?” he asked.

She paused.

“Christine?”

“You noticed,” she said, sounding utterly amazed. “You actually _noticed_ that something was wrong. Wow. Stark has been even better for you than I could have imagined.”

He also told himself that he wasn’t blushing as he said, “I notice things.”

“Stephen, honey, you notice _things_. You don’t notice _people_. The whole time that we were together, you never once asked me how my day was,” Christine said. “Honestly, I didn’t even think you were capable of stringing the words together.”

Stephen frowned at the bathroom tiles. They were nice tiles. “It just never occurred to me,” he said defensively. That was yet another reason why they’d broken up. He knew he was selfish; he hadn’t realized how selfish until he as actively trying to date another person. It was a lot of work keeping up with the thoughts and feelings of a whole other person.

Yet with Tony… it felt different. Paying attention to Tony wasn’t something that he had to remind himself to. It wasn’t a chore or something that he felt bothered by. It was… natural. 

Looking after another person had become _natural_.

When the hell had that happened?

“I don’t know what happened,” he admitted, sinking down onto the toilet. “I think I’m in over my head. I shouldn’t have stuck around. I should have ignored the magic and just left Tony at the hospital. I knew he was in good hands; there was absolutely no reason for me to –”

“Whoa, hey,” Christine interrupted, her voice softening. “Take a deep breath.”

“I’m not one of your patients,” he snapped, but he found himself obeying regardless.

“If you were one of my patients, I’d foist you off on Harper,” she said wryly.

“Rude,” Stephen said, smiling in spite of himself. “I just – I am not cut out for this.”

“For what?”

“You know what.”

She did him a kindness and stopped pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about. “I know you hated that part of being a doctor, but I always believed you had it in you to be kind, Stephen. It just took effort, and you were so good at what you did that you get away with being an asshole, so you didn’t.”

“So you’re saying that I want to make an effort now?” he asked, making a face.

“I’m saying that maybe you’ve found something worth making an effort for.”

Those words stuck with him long after he left the bathroom, and they bounced around his head now as he sat there staring at Tony. His heart was racing uncomfortably fast, but in spite of the adrenaline surge he was calm. All of his previous concerns were still a factor, but they seemed less daunting after further conversation with Christine. Much as he hated to admit it, she was right when she pointed that while his hands may have prevented him from resuming his duties as a doctor, that didn’t necessarily mean that he couldn’t be a caregiver.

“I’m not young either,” Stephen said at last, watching Tony even more closely than before. “I have never had a Little before. I can’t even begin to tell you how many of my previous patients would tell you that I am not cut out to care for anyone. I’m sarcastic, I’m cruel, I don’t have a lot of patience for stupidity, and that’s not even touching upon my physical issues.”

Tony said nothing, just hunched his shoulders like he was anticipating a blow. That, more than anything, gave Stephen the courage to continue.

“I never thought I would want a Little, but it seems that both biology and my magic have conspired against me. Because if I stayed, I regret to inform you that I would very much want to take care of you as your caregiver, and that it would not be a repercussion at all.”

“You – what?” Tony’s head shot up, eyes wide.

“I know,” Stephen said with a wry, bitter smile. “What you fail to understand is that I’m no prize either, Tony. I can’t say that I know exactly what you’ve been through, but as a doctor I did have my fair share of people who tried to get close to me just for money. As Sorcerer Supreme, I know what it’s like to have to put yourself in danger for the sake of others. So… perhaps I do understand you better than most.” 

“Wait. Wait.” Tony held up a hand. “So – you’re actually saying – you’d _want_ that?”

“I think so. Yes. I would like to at least try, provided that we can work things out together. As I said, I have certain issues that are a challenge.”

Tony’s eyes dropped to Stephen’s hands. Normally Stephen hated it when people looked at his hands – too often, his hands were the only thing that people saw – but he found that he didn’t mind when it was Tony looking. 

“I have my own issues,” Tony said quietly, and he touched his chest. “I’m sure we can work something out. If you want to.” 

“We would have to learn together,” Stephen said with a nod, because he knew that this would not be easy for either of them. This was going to require a lot of trust on both sides; he had never been good with that sort of thing, but he thought that for Tony, for _this_ , he was willing to try.

Magic had certainly changed him, he reflected wryly. Five years ago, a relationship with a Little would have been the furthest thing from his mind. He’d been consumed with his lifestyle, his patients, women, and money. The only reason he would have made contact with Tony Stark was if they brushed past each other at a party, which probably had happened on occasion. 

“That’s – wow.” Tony gulped. “I – I didn’t expect that. I thought you’d run screaming out the door.”

“There’s not much that can make me run away,” Stephen said, deliberately not thinking about those things which _could_ make him run. Now was not the time or place to be dwelling on them.

Tony’s expression changed, becoming more serious. “If you did want to stop at any point, or decided that this isn’t what you want, please tell me about it. Please don’t… don’t just leave.”

Fucking Steve Rogers. Stephen had never been told the whole story about what happened between Rogers and Tony, but that statement implied a lot. A punch in the face was too good for Rogers. He deserved so much worse than that and someday, Stephen was going to make sure that he got what was coming to him. But now wasn’t the time to focus on that.

He cleared his throat and said, “I won’t, I promise. Christine tells me that sarcasm and snark are my first languages, but for something like that I promise I’m capable of an adult conversation.”

That prompted a small grin from Tony. “Funny, Pepper used to tell me the same thing. I’m not in my headspace all the time, you know. Nothing has to change when I’m not. And when I am… it would be whatever you’re comfortable with. But, um, I’m pretty…”

“Young?” Stephen said, very gently.

A lot of people would have said that Tony Stark wasn’t capable of blushing.

Those people would have been wrong.

“Yeah,” Tony mumbled, then turned away to his face in the Cloak. It was actually kind of adorable. Stephen had to shake his head at himself.

“I already knew that. I saw your records at the hospital,” he reminded Tony. He had been looking at them to see what kind of injuries they were dealing with, but Tony’s medical information had been on that form too – including the fact that he was a Little with the youngest headspace there was. Of course, even if he hadn’t known that the bottle and swaddling would have been a dead give away.

Tony muttered something into the Cloak. Stephen looked at the Cloak for help, but it merely raised a corner and, as best a piece of cloth could, shrugged.

“I didn’t hear you,” Stephen said.

“I said it’s a lot of work,” Tony said louder, still not looking at him.

By which Tony meant that _he_ was a lot of work, Stephen inferred. Statistically it made sense – younger Littles were often the hardest to place – but that realization made him both sad and angry. Tony couldn’t help being the way he was, and he couldn’t help what he needed from people. The fact that people had shamed him for those needs was abhorrent. 

“I’m aware. I was a doctor. We all had to attend classes on Littles, even if we weren’t planning to go into that part of medicine,” Stephen said. “Also…”

After a moment of silence, Tony shifted and peeked back at him. “Also?”

“I happen to be well matched to younger Littles,” Stephen admitted. That was something he had never told anyone, not even Christine – she had guessed on her own after seeing how he’d behaved around Tony at the hospital. Annoyingly enough, she had not been surprised.

Caregivers were common in the medical field. The instinct and drive to take care of someone could be successfully diverted into your work when you were a doctor. That was how Stephen had dealt with it for years. The rush of saving someone’s life had been enough to keep the worse cravings to care at bay. He supposed he should have seen this coming, since he had cared for nothing and no one but himself since becoming a sorcerer.

Or, as Christine had put it, “You always were a mother hen; you were just too prickly and too much of an asshole to let yourself or anyone else enjoy it.”

“And… you don’t mind?” Tony asked, sounding suspicious.

“No,” Strange said. “I might have some difficulties with my…” He waved his hands. “But I’ll do my best. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. Believe me when I say that I am not a man who makes an offer like this lightly.”

Tony studied him for a moment before nodding slowly. “So… a trial run?”

“Sounds fair to me,” Stephen said with a shrug. He thought about suggesting a month, but finally went with, “Two weeks? We’ll reassess at the end of it?”

“Okay,” Tony said, turning back to him fully. The Cloak shifted up around Tony, wrapping around him lightly but possessively.

Stephen sighed at it. “Really?”

“Um, your Cloak seems to like me,” Tony said, sounding confused but not displeased.

“You should probably get used to it, sorry,” Stephen said. “It’s very stubborn.”

“It seems very nice to me,” Tony said. He lifted a hand and gently stroked the length of the Cloak. It rumbled under his touch, not unlike the way a cat might purr, and a small smile crossed Tony’s face. The Cloak tightened around him.

Stephen was pretty sure the Cloak would’ve been giving him a smug smirk if it had a face.

He resisted the urge to facepalm.

“So, what happens now?” Tony asked, and Stephen tore his eyes away from the Cloak to look at Tony.

That was a good question. What was supposed to happen now? Both of them were feeling too awkward to do much of anything. There was still more talking to be done, but Stephen thought that they needed a break from that. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving Tony; right now Tony was clearly in his adult headspace, but he was too close to sliding back the other way to be left alone.

“I haven’t watched a movie in about six months,” he said finally. “Have I missed anything good?”

Tony had the nerve to scoff at him. “Have I missed anything good, he says. FRIDAY, que up something good, would you?”

Stephen leaned back against the couch as FRIDAY obeyed, the room growing dim and the television turning itself on. It was only about twenty minutes into the movie before he felt a head coming to rest against his shoulder. He tensed up before he could stop himself, but then slowly relaxed. That made Tony relax too, enough so that he fully curled up against Stephen’s arm and tucked his thumb in his mouth.


	12. Chapter 12

“So, uh, Pepper isn’t gonna be there today, right?” Clint’s cautious question ended the silence that had lingered amongst the Avengers for a good five minutes. 

“Right,” Steve said, maybe a little too quickly. He carefully avoided Clint’s narrowed eyes by looking over at Bucky and Natasha. Bucky wouldn’t meet his gaze, but Natasha did. She raised a skeptical eyebrow that made Steve flush. Clearly, she knew as well as he did that it was extremely likely that Pepper Potts would be there. In fact, Steve couldn’t imagine that she wouldn’t be.

It had been over a month since they had last seen Tony and, truth be told, Steve was not looking forward to the meeting that was about to happen. Just the thought of having to deal with Tony and his entourage was exhausting. He knew that none of them were going to be sensible or realistic about what needed to happen. Not after Steve’s attempts to smooth everything over had been soundly rejected.

His ears had ached for a good twenty minutes after the thorough tongue lashing that Pepper had given them. She’d thoroughly dressed Steve down for daring to think that he had a right to any of Tony’s projects, much less Tony’s time. She had threatened them about threatening Tony – even though Steve had done no such thing! – and ended the scolding by telling them that she would slap them all with assault charges so fast their heads would spin if any of them so much as tried to lay a finger on Tony in the future.

All bullshit, of course. Steve hadn’t done anything wrong. None of them had. Tony was blowing this way out of proportion as usual, and it was throwing a lot of wrenches into their plans.

Nothing was the same anymore. The Compound was now owned by the Accords Council, and they had instated a lot of little rules that Steve didn’t like. They claimed money was tight, so a lot of resources were being tightly controlled. The Avengers were all now on an allowance, which was a mere pittance when you considered their expenses. The list of paperwork that had to be filled out to even take a flight on the jet was ridiculous.

But it was all fine. Once they saw Tony, they’d be able to get back to how things were before. Steve was pretty confident about that. Tony needed them. He especially needed Steve. And if Steve was being honest, maybe he needed Tony a little bit too. He was looking forward to being able to rock Tony to sleep tonight. Maybe Bucky would help him put the baby to bed.

“I hope this doesn’t take too long,” Wanda said sourly. “I have a manicure in two hours and I’m not going to miss it because I have to listen to Stark whine.”

“Don’t worry. Once we make nice, you’ll be able to have all the manicures you want,” Clint told her, grinning. “It’ll be great to have access to his money again.”

Sam looked a little perturbed by that. “Tony may not give us access to his money. The Accords Council was pretty clear about how things will be from now on.”

Clint waved a hand at him dismissively. “Nah. Even if Tony lets the Council do whatever they want, then he can still give us money. We deserve it. I want my credit card back. I can’t wait to go out and buy myself some customized gear.” He rubbed his hands together gleefully.

Natasha nodded at him. “The stuff that T’Challa gave us was okay, but it was nothing compared to what we’ll be able to get here.”

“Just don’t ask for his money the second we walk in the door,” Sam said, shaking his head. Steve frowned over at him, wondering what Sam’s problem was. He had noticed that Sam’s mood had changed a little when they got back to the U.S. – or maybe even back in Wakanda. But he hadn’t had the chance to get Sam alone to ask about it.

“They’re going to be here in less than fifteen minutes,” Steve said, glancing at his watch. This meeting was supposedly taking place in a neutral area, meaning a government building in downtown Manhattan. 

“I’m not going,” Bucky said suddenly.

Clint and Natasha exchanged looks. Wanda just shrugged. Sam was the only one who didn’t seem surprised.

“Buck, what do you mean? This is your chance to make your case for why you want to be an Avenger,” Steve said. 

“I’m not – ” Bucky began and then stopped. His eyes darted around – not like a cornered animal, but like he was sizing each of them up. Steve had no idea why.

“Bucky?” he said again, and Bucky’s shoulders slumped.

“I’m not ready,” he said softly. Steve was positive that wasn’t what he was going to say and opened his mouth to push for more details. 

Natasha cleared her throat and gave him a pointed glare.

“Right,” Steve said instead. “That’s… that’s okay.” He tried to contain his disappointment, though he was sure it was obvious to anyone who was paying attention. He had dreams of he and Bucky fighting side by side on the battlefield. But he couldn’t exactly drag Bucky in there, and nor could he speak up on Bucky’s behalf. If Bucky wanted to be an Avenger, it had to come from Bucky. Much as he hated to admit it, Natasha was right in that respect.

“Why don’t you wait down here, then? You won’t have to see Tony,” Natasha said kindly.

Bucky nodded and slunk away without looking at any of them. Steve couldn’t help sighing with frustration.

“Give him time, Steve,” Natasha said. 

“I just wish Tony hadn’t been so awful,” Steve said sadly, knowing in his gut that that was why Bucky didn’t want to join them today.

“We’ll have our revenge on Stark yet,” Wanda said with a smirk, looping her arm through Steve’s.

Revenge? That wasn’t really what Steve wanted. He just wanted everything to go back to how it had been before, with the addition of Bucky of course. If the cost for that was taking responsibility for Tony from here on out and making sure that Tony didn’t do anything else wrong, then Steve was willing to do that. He cared enough about the team to make that sacrifice.

More determined now, he nodded and shot a smile at Wanda before leading the way down the hall. Tony had a bad habit of being ‘fashionably late’, as Natasha had once called it, but Steve knew better. It was rude to be late. Plus, this way they’d have the advantage of being able to choose their seats in the meeting room. And it worked: when they arrived, Steve made sure that he was sitting at the head of the table. He wanted Tony to be able to see him as soon as he walked into the room. Natasha sat beside him, then Clint, and finally Sam. 

The Council members arrived next. About twenty minutes after they did, Tony finally walked in. He was dressed in a suit and tie, no doubt in some kind of ploy to make Steve and the others look bad for their more casual dress. Really though, Steve thought, Tony was the one who ended up looking overdressed. He shook his head slightly. Just more proof that Tony really needed someone to take him in hand.

Strange and Potts were right on Tony’s heels; Wanda bristled when she saw Strange, and Clint tensed up when he saw Potts. Steve shot them both warning looks and stood to greet Tony.

“Hi Tony. I’m glad we’re finally getting the chance to sort everything out,” he said earnestly, because that really was the truth. 

Tony looked at him with a stony expression but said nothing. Despite how rude he was being, Steve pressed on.

“I know things are complicated right now. We’ve all done things we regret.” Or at least, Steve sure hoped that Tony was capable of feeling regret. “But we can work with it. We can be a team again – no, better yet we can be a _family_ again. I’m willing to be your caregiver again.”

“Are you serious?” Potts said. “Tony already has a caregiver.”

“What?” Steve said, shocked. “Who?”

Strange smirked at him. “That would be me,” he said, moving to stand directly beside Tony. He wasn’t overly muscled, yet he was still an imposing figure. Steve glanced between the two of them, trying to figure out if Strange was being serious.

“Wait, no. I’m Tony’s caregiver,” he said.

Tony scoffed and finally reached up to pull off his red-tinted sunglasses. “Rogers, you were never my caregiver. Let’s not pretend that I was ever anything out than a temporary replacement for the person you really wanted.”

“That’s not true!” Steve said, outraged.

But Tony ignored him, turning to the Council members and saying, “We’re not here to discuss my personal life. Can we begin?”

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” one of the men said.

Steve sank back into his chair, watching Tony and Strange closely. He suddenly realized that the two of them were moving with a certain intimacy: a meaningful exchange of looks, a quick brush of a hand down an arm. What’s more, they sat side by side, so close they were touching, and Tony was totally at ease. In fact, Tony looked more relaxed now than he had in months.

“We’re here to discuss the creation of the new team,” the man said.

“The new team?” Clint said. “What?”

Tony turned to them and gave a cold smile. “Oh, you didn’t hear? I should’ve remembered none of you liked to read the packet you’re given.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha said tightly. Tony was right, not that she’d admit it: none of them had read the emails the Council had sent out.

“They’re splitting the Avengers into teams,” Tony replied. “I’ve already put for a petition for my team and it’s been accepted. So, you all can have fun on your own.” His smile deepened into a smirk. “You’re not getting anything from me, understand? No money, no weapons, nothing.”

“You can’t do that!” Wanda exclaimed.

“Oh,” Tony said, leaning back and giving her another condescending smirk. He put his hand on Strange’s arm. “Maximoff, you have _no idea_ what we can do.”

That was it. Tony, Potts and Strange only stayed for another two minutes before they got up and left. Steve watched them go numbly, struggling to wrap his head around what had happened. He only started paying attention when Natasha jabbed him in the ribs; what Tony had said, according to the Council member reading off the emails, was true. They were on their own, and would not be getting access to Tony’s money, Tony’s weapons, Tony’s jet, or even Tony himself.

And there was nothing Steve could do about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


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